



?*+■ 










,*" . 






,^ ^. 









o > 







**o« :^ 



" •> • aP <?* * • « o ° . at 



0' 










& 



'*0 




* 4. 




#++ 




NT 







V -'V \' 






° f^i 






■ ♦* 



DISCO UR S E 



OF THE 



BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY, 

BY 

SAMUEL TYLER, 

OF THE MARYLAND BAR. 



It ought to be eternally resolved and settled that the 
understanding cannot decide otherwise than by- 
Induction, and by a legitimate form of it. 

Bacon's Works, 3rd. Vol. page "340, Am. Ed 

Num fingo? num mentior? cupio refelli: quid enim 
laboro, nisi ut Veritas in omni quaestione explicetur? 

Cicero, Tusc. Disp. Lib. 3d. page 105, Glas. Ed. 



PRINTED BY EZEKIEL HUGHES, 
FREDERICK CITY, MD. 

1844. 






[COPY RIGHT SECURED, ACCORDING TO ACT OF 
CONGRESS.] 



GIFT 
ESTATE OF 

APRIL, 1940 



DEDICATION 



To Dr. Grafton Tyler, Georgetown, D. C. 

Beloved Brother: — Our pleasures and our 
interests have always been so identified, that I cannot 
but desire that your name may be associated with 
mine, in a work which has amused so many of my 
leisure moments, and made it necessary that I should 
look over some of the ancient Greek and Roman au- 
thors/where almost every page suggested to me the 
time when we first read them over together, and 
like our play-grounds, brought back to my mind, the 
happy days of our youth. To you then, whom of all 
men, God has made nearest to me, in that we are the 
only children of our parents; and as the nearness of 
our relation has been so excellently illustrated in your 
brotherly love, which has contributed so much to my 
happiness through our childhood, and our youth, and 
increases as we walk up the hill of life together, I ded- 
icate these reflections of my leisure hours, hoping that 
the doctrines setforth, may receive the sanction of a 
judgment, that is so certain^ a measure of truth as yours. 
Your brother, 

SAMUEL TYLER. 
Frederick, Md., March 16th, 1844 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



PREFACE. 

part the first. 
The Influence of the Baconian Philoso- 
phy. — Some one nation always at the head of the 
rest. England at the head of modern civiliza- 
tion. In modern civilization there have been three 
great revolutions; the religious, the philosophical and 
the political. The philosophical revolution originated 
in England, Lord Bacon stands at the head of this 
movement. The object of this revolution. Bacon's 
writings — their publication and their circulation. — 
Royal Society of London. The leading discoveries of 
the physical sciences made in England. These dis- 
coveries enumerated, and the method of their discove- 
ry pointed out. These discoveries objects of the most 
delightful contemplation, Contrasts between the phy- 
sical discoveries of the ancients and the moderns as ob- 
jects of intellectual contemplation. Baconian philo- 
sophy practical. The application of its discoveries to 
the mechanic arts. The benefits conferred on Eng- 
land by the Baconian Philosophy. This philosophy 
not confined to physical nature: but embraces intellec- 
tual and moral science. The opinion that this philos- 
ophy leads to a mean standard of beauty, refuted; and 
the question examined at large both by philosophical 
analvsis and historical fact. English literature exam- 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. V 

inedj and its distinguishing features pointed out. The 
opinion that the Baconian philosophy leads to materi- 
alism and atheism refuted. The Baconian philosophy- 
likely to form the type of universal civilization. 

part the second. chapter i. 

The Baconian Method of Investigation. — 
The Aristotelian logic. The reasoning process in 
its form, is the syllogism. All reasoning pro- 
ceeds by comparison. The fundamental principle of 
the syllogism. Bacon did not design to teach a new- 
mode of reasoning, but a new method of investigation. 
The a priori method of investigation nothing more than 
a misapplication of the Aristotelian logic. The influ- 
ence of the a priori method of investigation upon phi- 
losophy. Bacon appears. His Installation of the 
sciences. The Novum Organon, its object, the spirit 
of its philosophy, and the nature of its method of in- 
vestigation. This method called Induction. It is 
the reverse of the syllogism. Analysis and synthesis 
considered, and both shown to be inductive processes. 
The application of mathematics to the inductive sci- 
ences considered. Induction carried on by principles 
of evidence and not by principles of logic. The na- 
ture of analogy considered. The inductive process 
founded on analogy. Philosophical analogy different 
from Rhetorical analogy. The great fundamental 
principle ot philosophical evidence developed; and it 
is shown to bear the same relation to induction that 
the fundamental principle of logic does to the syllo- 
gism. Whether Bacon discovered the inductive pro- 
cess considered. 
I* 



vi table of contents. 

part the second. chapter ii. 

The Theory of Mind assumed in the Baconiak 
method of Investigation : Only two theories of 
mind, the theory of innate ideas, and the theory, that 
all our knowledge is founded ultimately upon expe- 
rience. The theory of innate ideas,, is the theory of 
mind assumed in the a priori method of investigation ; 
and the theory, that all our knowledge is founded upon 
experience, is that assumed in the Baconian method of 
investigation. Plato the leading Philosopher amongst 
the ancients, and Des Cartes amongst the moderns, 
who maintained the theory of innate ideas. Both 
these Philosophers maintained the a priori method of 
investigation. Bacon's theory of mind, the same with 
that of Locke and Reid. They all maintained the 
theory that all our knowledge is founded upon experi- 
ence. Locke solved the fundamental problem of psy- 
chology ; and Reid developed the fundamental laws of 
thought. The Baconian method of investigation the 
psychological correlative of the theory of mind that 
all our knowledge is founded ultimately upon experi- 
ence. The theory of mind taught in the sacred scrip- 
tures. The Baconian method of investigation traced 
up to the first impression made upon the senses. 

part the third. 

Natural Theology: its place amongst the 
Sciences, and the nature of its evidence : Nat- 
ural Theology a branch of the inductive or Baconian 
philosophy. The errors of Lord Brougham's dis- 
course of Natural Theology pointed out. The place 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. VII 

of Natural Theology amongst the sciences and the na- 
ture ot its evidences pointed out by Bacon. 

Hume's essay on a special Providence and a future 
state considered. The error 01 the essay shown to 
consist in confounding a mere physical casue with an 
intelligent creator. This error shown to lie at the 
foundation of all atheistical arguments. The eviden- 
ces of Natural Theology traced up to the idea of cau- 
sation developed in consciousness. 



PREFACE. 

The Baconian Philosophy is emphatically the philos- 
ophy of protestanism. Luther denounced the Aris-- 
totelian logic, because it was the foundation of the 
scholastic theology, the frame-work which supported 
its superstructure, and the cement which held togeth- 
er all its parts. And Bacon denounced it, because it 
was the foundation, and frame-work and cement of the 
a priori philosophy. Protestant Christianity and the 
Baconian philosophy originate in the same fountain, 
and flow together in the same channels. And it is 
very remarkable that just now, so much attention is 
directed to the two great revolutions of modern times 
— the religious revolution effected by Luther, and the 
philosophical revolution effected by Bacon. Two 
more elaborate histories of the reformation than any 
ever submitted to the world, are now being written, 
and are nearly'completed, — the one, by D'Aubigne in 
Switzerland, and the other, by Ranke in Germany. 
The first, as fir as completed, has been translated into 
english, and published and read with the deepest interest 
over all Great Britain, and has been republished and 
read more extensively, in this country, than almost 
any other book. And from the high reputation of 
Ranke, and the absorbing interest of the subject, his 
history will doubtless soon be translated into english, 
and circulated through all the multiplied channels of 
publication. And thus the most animating interest in 
the great theme, will be kept alive. And within a 



X PREFACE. 

few years, Montagu's edition of Bacon's complete 
works, with translations of those written in latin, 
which had engaged the attention of the editor more 
than twenty years, has been published in Englaud, 
and is now republished in this country ; and the pop- 
ular publications of England, and the great periodicals 
of both that and this country, have been for a long time 
teeming with commentaries and expositions of the 
Baconian philosophy. The mighty spirit of modern 
civilization appears to be stirring up society anew, by 
rehearsing the history of its triumphs, and proclaim- 
ing again to the world, its great doctrines. It seems 
to be gathering up its strength, for a new onward" 
movement. 

Impelled, by the same influence which is operating 
upon so many minds in the different nations of Chris- 
tendom, we have endeavored in this discourse, to ex- 
hibit a popular and succint, but yet a more thoroughly 
developed exposition of the Baconian philosophy than 
any which has appeared. 

In the first part of the discourse, we have set forth? 
as the leading truth, that the Baconian philosophy has 
for its primary object, the investigation of the laws of 
the material world, and the application of these laws, 
through the instrumentality of the useful arts, to the 
physical well-being of man. That this philosophy 
does not think it beneath its dignity, to solve the 
homely problems : " What shall we eat, and what shall 
we drink, and wherewithall shall we be clothed?" 
But admitting, that philosophers like other people, 
must feed their hunger and clothe their nakedness, it 
teaches how to make with more facility and in greater 



PREFACE. XI 

abundance, the food and raiment necessary for our 
bodies, and proclaims not in whispers, but in its very- 
loudest accents, that Franklin did not more fully ex- 
emplify the true spirit of philosophy when be brought 
down fire from heaven, than Fulton did, when he 
yoked it to the car of commerce. 

And as England originated the great philosophical 
movement of which we are speaking, and stands at 
the head of modern civilization, we have cited the 
chief discoveries in the sciences made by the Anglo- 
Saxon race, and then showed how these discoveries, 
by their application to the useful arts, have extended 
the dominion of man over the empire of nature, and 
in this way conferred on England so much wealth 
and power. And we might well have added to the 
other instances of discoveries made by the English, 
that of vaccination by Jenner — a discovery which has 
saved the lives of hundreds of thousands of the human 
race; and rescued youth and beauty from the loath- 
some embraces of a disease, which even when it 
spares the life of its victim, leaves upon him forever, 
the indelible marks of its malignity. This discovery 
affords a signal instance of that utility, to which thfc 
Baconian philosophy applies all its discoveries; and 
is worth all the discoveries of the ancient philosophies 
put together; and constitutes a more glorious crown 
than any ancient sage ever wore. 

After thus showing the connection of the Baconian 
philosophy with the useful arts, and how much it has 
through them, contributed to the physical comforts of 
man, we next show that this philosophy docs not lead 
to a selfish morality, as some have alleged ; but that 



XII prefAcs. 

in all its principles, and in all its aims, it tends to pro* 
duce a noble and disinterested morality. The next 
question discussed is the bearing of this philosophy 
upon the arts of beauty ; and it is shown by an analy- 
sis of its fundamental principles, that it maintains a 
most exalted ideal. And this fact is further proved and 
illustrated, by spreading out in microscopic view, the 
literature of England with all its rich and various and 
masculine beauties, which has grown up under the in- 
fluence of the spirit of this philosophy. 

We must defend this philosophy from the charge of 
materialism and atheism with which it is so often as-, 
sailed, and show that this charge has no foundation 
either in its principles or the influence which it ha9 
actually exerted upon the opinions of men ; ior that 
the nation which has most assiduously cultivated it,. 
has also done more to advance the doctrines of natural 
theology, than any nation known to history. 

We conclude this part of the discourse, by showing 
that the Baconian philosophy is not like the ancient 
philosophies adapted to the culture of one epoch and 
one people only ; but that like Christianity it is catho- 
lic in its spirit and equally suited to all times and to 
every people, and that it is likely to extend its bless- 
ings to all nations, and gather them under its wings as 
a hen doth gather her chickens. 

In the second part of the discourse, we enter upon 
the consideration of the Baconian method of investiga- 
tion. This part is divided into two chapters. The 
first chapter treats in the first place, of the Aristotelian 
Logic, and shows that it analyses the reasoning pro- 
cess, and developes the form in which every argument 



PREFACE. XIII 

passes through the mind, and that this form is the syl- 
logism. It then shows, that the truth of the conclu- 
sion of an argument is always assumed in the premises, 
and is not in reality a new truth : but merely a partic- 
ular instance of a general truth already known, and 
stated in the premises. It is then shown that the a 
priori method of investigation is nothing more than a 
misapplication of the Aristotelian logic as a method ot 
investigation. The effect of this misapplication upon 
ancient philosophy, is then shown, and the peculiar 
errors produced by it, pointed out. This effect is then 
traced down through the middle ages of European his- 
tory, and the futility of the philosophy of that period 
is signalised. - 

We next enter upon the consideration of the meth- 
od of investigation taught by Bacon in the Novum Or- 
ganon, and show that it is just the reverse of the syl- 
logistic method of Aristotle, which had been previous- 
ly used. It is shown that the Baconian method of in- 
vestigation proceeds from particulars to universals, and 
that the syllogistic or a priori method proceeds from 
universals to particulars. And it is shown that the 
Baconian method of investigation is not a process of 
reasoning at all— is not carried on by n^es of logic : 
but is carried on by rales of evidence. And that 
though the mathematics are applied to the verification 
of the inferences of induction in the physical sciences, 
that still this does not take those sciences out of the 
pale of induction and put them within the precincts 
of reasoning : the reasoning process being in such ap» 
plication of the mathematics, a mere touch-stone to 
test the truth of the inductive conclusions, and not to 
ii 



XtV PREFACE. 

elicit any new conclusion not already reached by in- 
duction. Analysis and synthesis are also considered; 
and are shown to be in the sciences of contingent truth, 
inductive processes and not processes of reasoning, and 
that they are what Bacon called the ascending and 
descending processes of induction. And as we show 
that induction is carried on by means of principles of 
evidence and not by principles of logic, we enter 
upon the consideration of the nature of philosophical 
evidence ; and show that all evidence may be divided 
into analogy and identity; and that the whole induc- 
tive process, as long as that process is founded on mere 
probability, no matter how great is the probability, 
proceeds on analogical evidence. And we show that 
all the great discoveries in physical science have been 
made by the evidence of analogy. We then distin- 
guish between philosophical analogy, and rhetorical 
analogy ; and show that the distinction is an important 
one, and that for want of this distinction men have 
continually fallen into error. And finally we evolve 
out of our analysis of the inductive process, the great 
fundamental principle of philosophical evidence, which 
bears the same relation to induction, that the Dictum 
de omni et nullo of Aristotle, does to the syllogism, 
And thus we have rendered induction just as systemat- 
ic as Aristotle did the syllogism. And surely it is 
much more difficult to develop a principle which shall 
embrace in its application the innumerable particular 
instances which occur in every science or department 
of nature, and show the connection between them and 
the inductive inference properly inferrible from them, 
than it is to develop a principle which shall show the 



PREFACE. XV 

connection between the premises and conclusion of an 
argument : and therefore such a principle is so much 
the more important. 

Mr. Macaulay in his celebrated review of Bacon's 
writings seemed to think that no such principle as the 
one just mentioned could be developed — that no pre- 
cise rule can be given marking the difference betwee n 
instances from which a sound inductive inference can 
be drawn, and instances from which such an inference 
cannot be drawn. And with a levity characterised 
more by the spirit of a coquette, than of a philosopher 
— with strong words and weak arguments— he has at- 
tempted to ridicule by the reductio ad absurdum, the 
value of Bacon's delineation of the inductive process in 
the second book of the Novum Organon. He amuses 
himself, and as he supposed, his readers too, with a 
ludicrous caricature of the inductive process, in show- 
ing that it is by that process that a man finds out that 
he has been made sick by the mince pies which he 
had eaten. It would have been quite as philosophical, 
to have attempted to depreciate the inductive process, 
by showing that it was by that process, that Hudibras 
arrived at the conclusion that it was not necessary to 
have more than one spur ; because he had ascertained 
by actual experiment, that one side of his horse could 
not move without the other, and that therefore, if one 
spur could make one side go, it would make the other 
go too. Mr. Macaulay well knows that ridicule is 
not argument. And doubtless he would readily per- 
ceive, that the fact, that Hudibras 

— "by geometric scale, 

Could take the size of pots of ale ; 
Resolve by signs and tangents, straight, 
Xf bread or butter wanted weight," 



XVI PREFACE. 

does not detract from the dignity of Newton's Princi- 
pia or prove that the rules of geometry are useless. 
And yet he does not perceive the folly of attacking by 
ridicule, the development of induction which Bacon 
has given in the second book of the Novum Organon. 
But smitten with the ambition of critical display, he 
sacrifices truth to rhetoric. And in his attempts to 
reduce to absurdity, the reasonings of others, he 
plunges into that predicament himself. Flying upon 
the wings of antithesis, and in his onward course show- 
ing first one wing of the antithesis and then the oth- 
er, in order that his readers may admire their bril- 
liancy and their contrast, and more intent upon the 
grandeur of his flight than the point to which he is 
moving, he is sometimes carried to the most preposter- 
ous conclusions. And on the point which we are now 
examining he goes the whole length of declaring that 
grammar and logic and rhetoric are useless studies. 
When it is a knowledge of these very studies, which 
has strengthened and plumed his own wings, and en- 
abled him to soar aloft so boldly and gracefully, that 
we cannot hut admire his flight, even when it is be- 
yond the regions of truth and common sense. 

But not content with ridiculing induction by general 
remarks, Mr. Macaulay > as if to signalise its absurdity ? 
ridicules it in all its details, until his criticism rivals 
in the minuteness of its anatomy, the celebrated curse 
which Dr. Slop, at the request of Mr. Shandy, read 
aloud, to the so great horror of my uncle Toby. "We 
have heard (says he) that an eminent judge of the last 
generation was in the habit of jocosely propounding 
after dinner a theory, that the cause of the prevalence 



PREFACE. XVII 

of Jacobinism was the practice of bearing three names- 
He quoted on the one side Charles James Fox, Rich- 
ard Brinsley Sheridan, John Home Tooke, John Phil- 
pot Curran, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Theobald Wolfe 
Tone : These were instantiae convenientes. He then 
proceeded to cite instances absentiae in proxime: — 
William Pitt, John Scott, William Wyndham, Sam- 
uel Horseley, Henry Dundas, Edmund Burke. He 
might have gone on to instances secundum magis et 
minus. The practice of giving children three names, 
is more common in America than England. In Eng- 
land we have a King and a House of Lords, but the 
Americans are republicans. The rejectiones are ob- 
vious. Burke and Theobald Wolfe Tone were both 
Irishmen ; therefore the being an Irishman, is not the 
cause of Jacobinism. Horsely and Home Tooke were 
both Clergymen ; therefore the being a clergyman, is 
not the cause of Jacobinism. Fox and Wyndham were 
both educated at Oxford; and therefore the being educa- 
ted at Oxford, is not the cause of Jacobinism. Pitt and 
Home Tooke were both educated at Cambridge ; 
therefore the being educated at Cambridge is not the 
cause of Jacobinism. In this way our inductive phi- 
losopher arrives at what Bacon calls the vintage, and 
pronounces that the having three names is the cause 
of Jacobinism." 

^Here is an induction corresponding with Bacon's 
analysis, and ending in a monstrous absurdity. In 
what, then does this induction differ from the induc- 
tion which leads us to the conclusion that the presence 
of the sun is the cause of our having more light by day 
than night ! The difference evidently is not in the 
ii* 



XVIII PREFACE. 

kind of instances, but in the number of instances; that 
is to say, the difference is not in that part of the pro- 
cess for which Bacon has given precise rules, but in a 
circumstance, for which no precise rule can possibly 
be given.'' Now we join issue with Mr. Macaulay 
and say that it is the kind of instances as well as the 
number of instances which constitutes the difference 
between the two cases which he puts. For if the in- 
stances of the three names had been as numerous as 
the whole Jacobin party, though it would have been a 
marvellous coincidence, yet no man in his senses would 
have believed that the bearing three names was the 
cause of the prevalence of Jacobinism ; and simply 
because, the instances are not of the kind from which 
an inductive inference can be drawn : they being the 
mere coincidence of chance, and not kindred facts con- 
joined by a law of nature. It is true that if every Ja- 
cobin had borne three names, it might have been in- 
ferred that there was some cause for such a conjunction 
of facts—that their parents, perhaps, from some com- 
mon motive gave their children three names, just as 
the old Puritans from a common motive, gave their 
children ivhole verses of scripture for names. But un- 
der no circumstances whatever could it be inferred 
that the bearing three names was the cause of the pre- 
valence of Jacobinism. The fact that the presence 
of the sun is the cause of more light by day than night 
is a fact in nature, and is supported as every fact in 
nature always is, by innumerable analogies. But is the 
naming children a fact in nature — a work of the Crea- 
tor? Is the bearing three names and the being a Ja- 
cobin, a relation established by the Creator of the uni- 



PREFACE. XIX 

verse? Is there any analogy in nature from which it 
can be inferred that the one is the cause of the other? 
Certainly none. It might as well be supposed that 
the wearing pantaloons is the cause of one person's 
being a man, and the wearing petticoats, the cause of 
another person's being a woman, as that the bearing 
three names is the cause of one's being a Jacobin. 

This then is the difference between the two kinds 
of instances, and "the circumstance far which a pre- 
cise rule can be given :" the one is the constant 
connection between two facts in nature, the other, 
the casual coincidence of two facts totally irrele- 
vant, and dependent on the acts of man. Their differ- 
ence is perceived intuitively, and therefore cannot be 
made plainer by illustration. Our remarks in the dis- 
course, on analogy, appear to us, to throw light upon 
the subject. 

Mr. Macaulay after exhausting his weapons of ridi- 
cule, becomes very serious, and says " that the differ- 
ence between a sound and unsound induction, or to 
use the Baconian philosophy, between the interpreta- 
tion of nature and the anticipation of nature, does not 
lie in this — that the interpreter of nature goes through 
the process analysed in the second book of the Novum 
Organon and the anticipator through a different pro- 
cess. They both perform the same process. But the 
anticipator performs it foolishly or carelessly ; the in- 
terpreter performs it with patience, attention and saga- 
city, and judgement. Now precepts can do little to- 
vards making men patient and attentive, and still less 
owards making them sagacious and judicious." Now 
hese sober remarks of Mr Macaulay are not entitled to 



XX PREFACE. 

one tittle more respect as exhibitions of truth than 
those which we have been examining. Precepts 
of no use ! Why ; are not precept and example the 
only guide of man? and is not the whole force of exam- 
ple in its being the expression of a precept? The 
mere general precept which lies at the foundation of 
the Baconian philosophy, //ta£ we should scrutinise with 
caution the phenomena of nature, before ive draw our 
inferences, has revolutionised philosophy ; and yet it 
is gravely asserted, by one of the most brilliant writ- 
ers, and adroit critics of the age, that precepts are use- 
less in philosophical investigations, and in every 
thing else. We readily admit, that as long as induc- 
tion is confined, to ascertaining what article of diet 
has made a man sick, or whether one side of a horse 
can move without the other, precepts are of very lit- 
tle use. But then, it must be remembered, that in- 
duction "resembles the tent which the fairy Paribanou 
gave to Prince Ahmed. Fold it, and it seemed a toy 
for the hand of a lady. Spread it, and the armies of 
powerful Sultans might repose beneath its shade.*' 
When it is the toy for the hand of a lady, we may use 
it without the aid of precepts, but when it is spread 
out so that the armies of powerful sultans may repose 
beneath its shade, we cannot manage it by our unaioS 
ed strength. 

Having thus, in the first chapter of the second part 
of the discourse, considered the Baconian method of 
investigation, in the second chapter, we consider the 
theory of mind assumed in that method. We show, 
there never has been, and that there never can be, more 
than two theories of mind ,• and these two theories are 



PREFACE. XXI 

the theory of innate idea?, and the theory that all our 
knowledge is founded ultimately in experience. We 
show that the theory of innate ideas is the theory as- 
sumed in the a priori method of investigation; and that 
the theory that all our knowledge is founded ultimate- 
ly in experience, is that assumed in the Baconian 
method of investigation. It is shown that Plato was 
the leading philosopher amongst the ancients and Des 
Cartes amongst the moderns, who maintained the the- 
ory of innate ideas ; and that both these philosophers 
maintained the a priori method of investigation. It is 
next shown that Bacon had a distinct view of the theo- 
ry of mind that all our knowledge is founded ultimate- 
ly in experience; and that this is the theory of mind 
which has-been developed by Locke and Reid. We 
show that Locke solved the great fundamental problem 
of this theory of mind, and showed that all our knowl- 
edge originates in sensation and < onsciousness. And 
that Reid established this theory still more firmly by 
developing the great psychological laws which lie at 
the foundation of this theory, and which govern human 
belief in the knowledge derived through these original 
sources of information. He developed the law which 
governs our belief in the testimony of sensation, and 
the law which governs our belief in the testimony of 
consciousness. He also developed the law which gov- 
erns our belief in the testimony of memory, and the 
law which governs our belief, that the future will be 
like the past, and that like causes will produce like ef- 
fects. This last is the fundamental law of induction. 
And thus we trace up the Baconian method of investi- 
gation through the theory of mind which it assumes? 



XXII PREFACE. 

ia every step of knowledge until we traGe the pro- 
cess up to the very first impressions made upon the sen- 
ses, and we show the psychological law for every act 
of the mind in the process. We have therefore in the 
two chapters of this part of the discourse, exhibited an 
outline of a complete system of logic in the largest 
sense of the term; and furnished in it a touchstone of 
philosophical criticism by which the reasonings of all 
philosophies may be tested. 

In the third part of the discourse, we apply the se- 
cond part by way of philosophical criticism, to Lord 
Brougham's Discourse of Natural Theology, and 
Hume's Essay on a special Providence and a future 
State. We show that Lord Brougham in the very 
outset commits a logical blunder, which vitiates much 
of his subsequent reasonings. And that he does not 
solve the problem which he has proposed to himself: 
but that he always dodges it, or passes it over, by a 
mere assertion. We show that this results from his 
overlooking some of the logical and psychological prin- 
ciples which, we have developed in the second part of 
our discourse. We then show how, by an applica- 
tion of these principles, the problem which Lord 
Brougham has pioposed to himself can be solved. We 
next show that ihe great doctrine of Lord Brougham's 
discourse, that Natural Theology is a branch of the in* 
ductive or Baconian philosophy, and is founded on the 
same sort of evidence as that philosophy, had been 
distinctly advanced by Bacon, and set forth with the 
most accurate discrimination ; and from the fact that 
"Brougham comments in his discourse upon this portion 
of Bacon's writings, we are at a loss to determine 



PRFACE. XXlti 

whether he could have misunderstood Bacon, or 
whether he wished to pervert Bacon's doctrine, in or- 
der that he mignt have the credit of having first shown 
the true place of Natural Theology amongst the sci- 
ences. 

After having examined Lord Brougham's discourse, 
we proceed to examine Hume's Essay on a Special 
Providence and a future State ; and we show by an 
application of the psychological and logical principles 
developed by us in the second part of the discourse, 
that the whole fallacy of Hume's doctrine consists in 
his confounding an intelligent Creator with a mere 
physical cause. And we show that this is the clue by 
which the sophistical labyrinths of his argument are 
to be traced. As soon as the distinction between an 
intelligent Creator and a mere physical cause is appli- 
ed to Hume's reasonings, his whole argument point 
after point, falls to the ground, as if touched by the 
wand of a talisman ; and we feel astonished that the 
essay should, by the apparent strength of its fortresses, 
have so long kept off the attacks of natural theologians; 
and should at this day be considered so formidable as 
to lead Lord Brougham to remark that, " we may the 
rather conclude that it is not very easily answered, be- 
cause in fact it has rarely if ever been encountered by 
writers on theological subjects." And it is remarkable 
that no writer on natural theology, as well as we can 
recollect, has shown the importance (in our reasonings 
on natural theology) of the distinction between an in- 
telligent Creator and a mere physical cause, and yet 
it is the confounding of so obvious a distinction that 
has caused the chief difficulty on this subject. We 



XXIV PHEFACE. 

have shown that with this distinction there is no rliffi* 
culty whatever in maintaining on the principles of the 
inductive philosophy, the truth of natural theology t 
but that without this distinction, natural theology must 
fail. 

We have then, in the first part of the discourse 
shown the nature of the Baconian philosophy ; in the 
second part we have shown the Baconian method of 
investigation, and the theory of mind assumed in that 
method; and in the third part we have shown how, by 
the application of the logical and psychological prin- 
ciples developed in the second part, it may be used as 
a touchstone of philosophical criticism. And all we 
ask of the reader is, that he will not read one part of 
the discourse without reading the whole ; as the dis- 
course is arranged in a sort of perspective, so that every 
part casts light upon the others, and it is impossible to 
see the full import of either part, without reading them 
all. 



ERRATA. 

Page 7 in the 13th line, for "discoveries," read "discovery." 
" 29 in the 5th line, for "id" read "in." 
" 29 in the 9th li.ie, tor "psylosophy" read "philosophy," 
" 84 leave out one entire sentence commencing on the 17th 

line and ending on the 23rd. 
" US in first line, for "this" read "the." 
" 130 in 10th line, for "process" read "processes." 
" 178 in 17th line, for "style" read "sty." 



PART THE FIRST. 



INFLUENCE OF THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 



In every age of the world, since the human family 
has been so numerous as to be divided into separate 
communities, some one nation has exerted a predomi- 
nant influence over the rest. This appears to be the 
economy of civilization. The Grecian Republics, (for 
they all were but one nation,) and Rome, in their suc- 
cessive order in history, have, of all the nations of an" 
tiquity, exerted the most important influence on the 
destinies of man. Rut, in modern times a new order 
of civilization has arisen; and for more than two cen- 
turies, England has stood at the head of this new or- 
der of things. Enthroned upon the riches of a uni- 
versal commerce, enlightened by the knowledge of ev- 
ery science, armed with the power, and accomplished 
with the embellishments of every art — baptized into 
the spirit of Christianity, she is influencing and con- 
trolling the destinies of the human race towards a glo- 
rious consummation. 

In the progress of this civilization, there have been 

three great revolutions, the religious, the philosophical, 

and the political. After the human mind had thrown 

oS" the coercive authority of the Romish Church, the 

1 



& THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY 

moral authority of the ancient philosophers still re- 
mained! and what Luther did in the emancipation of 
the mind from the first, Bacon did in the emancipation 
of the mind from the last. Luther burnt the Pope's 
bull in 1520, and Bacon published his Novum Organ- 
on in 1620. The religious revolution* therefore, pre- 
ceded the philosophical, and both of these,, the politi- 
cal. Not, however, that these revolutions did not move 
on simultaneously; but, that in their progress, they were 
in advance of each other, in the order which we have 
indicated. Though they grew together they differed 
in maturity. Their crises were successive. Perhaps, 
the divine wisdom is displayed in this order of things — 
perhaps any other order is impossible in the moral econ- 
omy of the world: it being necessary that the restraint* 
upon man, should be thrown off, not all at once, but 
•eparately, as he advances in mental and moral improve- 
ment. These then, are the movements, which Europe 
has made in civilization. She has thrown off religious 
despotism, she has thrown off philosophical despotism^ 
Bhe has thrown off political despotism. And she ha» 
advanced to this position, through many a bloody ag- 
ony. The treasures of the industry of ages have been 
•pent, the chivalry of thousands of heroes, the studies 
by day and by night of scholars and philosophers, the 
genius of poets exhibiting in their compositions those 
actions which ennoble the soul, the patriotic and hu- 
mane sentiments of orators clothed in the thunders of 
impassioned dietion— all these have been spent in pur- 
chasing the civilization of modern Europe. It become* 
then, an important inquiry to ascertain the character 
ot the philosophy of that people, into whose keeping, 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. • 

to far as human agency is concerned, the destinies of 
Europe appear, in the progress of history, to have been 
confided by divine providence. 

We will, therefore, pass over the religious and poliL. 
ical revolutions, and even the literature of modern 
times, and confine ourselves entirely to the philosophi- 
cal revolution which originated in England, and which 
is exerting so important an influence over the destiniei 
of man, through the agency of that great people. 

We propose, then, to sketch the rise and progress of 
the most wonderful philosophical revolution, and the 
most glorious in its results upon the pursuits and hap- 
piness of man, of any within the whole history of the 
world. We propose to give some account of the phi- 
losophy of utility — the philosophy of lightning rods, 
of steam engines, safety lamps, spinning jennies and 
cotton jins — the philosophy which has covered the 
barren hills and the sterile rocks in verdure, and the 
deserts with fertility — which has clothed the naked, 
fed the hungry, and healed the sick — the philosophj 
of peace, which is converting the sword into the pru- 
ning hook, and the spear into the ploughshare. This i» 
the philosophy of which we propose to give some ac- 
count. 

It was Lord Bacon, who launched the human mind 
upon this new career of discovery. He is the great 
reformer, who stands at the head of the teachers of thig 
philosophy. Physical nature seemed perfectly impen- 
etrable to the acutest intellects of the ancients. They 
■could not get over even the threshold of physical sci- 
ence. Indeed, they cannot be said to have had any 
natural philosophy at all 5 so absurd were all their doc- 



4 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

trines about physical nature. Neither did the philo- 
sophers of the mid die ages, with all their assiduity, suc- 
ceed in exploring this field of knowledge. And, though 
the discoveries of Copernicus, Kepler, Galileo and 
Tycho Bralie show that Providence was preparing the 
way for a new era in physical science, and even the dis- 
coveries of Roger Bacon in the thirteenth century in- 
dicate the same fact, yet it remained for Lord Bacon 
to generalize the idea which philosophers were begin- 
ning to see obscurely and in single instances, and to re- 
veal to the philosophical world, what it had been pre- 
pared to comprehend: — That true philosophy must be 
connected with the arts, that while it satisfies the high- 
est faculties of the speculative intellect it may be ap" 
plied to the physical wants, and the general well-being 
of man. That living as we do in a world where gen- 
eral and permanent laws obtain, and under their do- 
minion, it is the object of natural philosophy to ascer- 
tain these laws, in order that we may not, in our en- 
deavours to promote our comforts, act against these 
laws, and thus attempt impossibilities; and also, that 
^ c these laws are not only invincible opponents, but irre- 
sistible auxiliaries." Bacon wished to make every 
power of nature work for man, the winds, the waters^ 
gravity, heat and all the mighty energies, which lie like 
the fabled giants of old under the mountains. These, 
he wished to unloose from their fetters, and bring as 
servants under the dominion of man. Such are the 
grand conceptions which Bacon proclaimed tothe world. 
Scarcely had Bacon published his writings before they 
were republished upon the continent of Europe. The 
treatise De Augmentis was republished in France in 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 5 

1624, the year after its appearance in England; and it 
was translated into French in 1632. Editions were al- 
so published in Holland in 1645, 1652 and 1662. The 
Novum Organon was thrice printed in Holland, in 
1645, 1650 and 1660; and men of every cast in the 
higher walks of life on the continent of Europe were 
conversant with his writings. Gassendi, Des Cartes 
Richelieu, Voiture, and at a later period Leibnitz, Bc- 
erhave and Puffendorf were loud in his praise. In- 
deed, his fame spread beyond the bounds of his own 
country, more rapidly than that of any philosopher 
within the whole history of letters, "What an impulse, 
then, must the philosophy of Bacon have given direct- 
ly and indirectly to the progress of the human mind 
upon the continent of Europe! for its advances there> 
have been made by pursuing the Baconian method of 
investigation. But let us see the progress of his phi- 
losophy in England, and cite some examples of the lead- 
ing discoveries which have been made by the Anglo- 
Saxon race. 

Not long after the death of Lord Bacon, in 1626, the 
Royal Society of London was established for the pro- 
motion of the sciences, and all England resounded 
with his praise. The philosophers of England almost 
adored his genius. They felt that he had a true En- 
glish mind. That he was the father of English philo- 
sophy. That the English mind had at last given to it 
a method of philosophizing suited to its practical and 
common sense turn. And, behold the results w r ritten 
upon the glorious records of English philosophy ! 

In every department of physical science, England 
has made the leading discoveries; and other nations^ 
1* 



'6 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

though their scientific labours have been so brilliant, 
have done little more than extend her researches and 
verify her theories. In physiology, the two greatest 
discoveries were made by philosophers of the British 
isle. Harvey discovered the circulation of the blood, 
and published his treatise Exercitatio de motu cordis, 
as early as 1628. He was the cotemporary and inti- 
mate friend of Bacon. Sir Charles Bell discovered 
that there are two distinct sets of nerves, those of sensa- 
tion and those of motion. And it is worthy of remark 
that both these great discoveries, so important to medi- 
cal science, were discovered by considerations founded 
upon the evidence of final causes. Harvey discovered 
the circulation of the blood, by reflecting on the use 
of those valves in the veins whose structure is such as 
to prevent the reflux of the blood towards the extre- 
mities. And Sir Charles Bell tells us in a note to 
his Bridgewater treatise on the hand, that the views 
taken of the nervous system in the chapter of that 
work on "Sensibility and Touch," where the uses and 
endowments of the different nerves are considered, 
guided him in his original experiments by which he 
established the great doctrine, that there are two sets of 
nerves prevading the whole animal system. Modern 
medicine also may be said to have arisen in England. 
Sydenham, who had maturely studied Bacon's writings, 
laid the foundation of the science of medicine by point- 
ing out, both by precept and example, the true method 
of observing the symptoms of disease, and of applying 
curative means according to the natural indications. 
Since his time, medicine has, by the aid of its auxilia- 
ry sciences, made rapid progress: but still his works 



THB BAC0NIA1C PHILOSOPHY. 7 

arc of much value, even yet, on account of their pro- 
found general views. And John Hunter may be said 
to have originated the sciences of comparative anatomy 
and physiology, by bringing experiment into the study 
of these branches of knowledge, thereby showing how 
to lay open the great mysteries of the human organi- 
zation. Surgical and medical pathology, which before 
his time were entirely conjectural, assumed from his 
principles a more positive character. In chemistry 
too, the greatest discoveries have been made in Eng- 
land. The laws of chemical combination, which are 
of so much practical as well as scientific utility, and 
are perhaps the most important discoveries in physics, 
except the law of gravity, were discovered by Dalton. 
The composition of water, the knowledge of which is 
an element in so many chemical reasonings as to render 
it one of the most prolific of chemical discoveries, was 
discovered by Watt, and confirmed or verified by 
Cavendish, who burnt oxygen and hydrogen in a dry 
glass vessel, when a quantity of pure water was genera- 
ted equal in weight to that of the gases which had 
disappeared in the formation of the water. The doc- 
trine of latent heat, which is so important a chemical 
truth, as to be the salient point of many chemical dis- 
coveries, was discovered by Dr. Black of Edinburgh. 
The discovery of the metallic bases of the alkalies and 
earths was made by Sir H. Davy, who contrived an 
apparatus to collect and condense the galvanic electri- 
city, and thereby applying this powerful agent in chem- 
ical analysis. The first inductive generalisation ever 
made in electricity, was made by Grey and Wheeler of 
England, who discovered that some substances are con- 



8; THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

ductors and others non-conductors. And the great truth 
that the lightning of Heaven is identical with electri- 
city was discovered by one speaking the English as his 
vernacular language. Franklin, by the beautifully 
simple apparatus of a kite having a key attached to the 
lower end of a hempen cord, and being insulated by 
means of a silken thread, by which it was fastened to 
a post, demonstrated that the electric fluid and light- 
ning are identical. The kite was/aised, while a heavy 
cloud was passing over, and after some time, the loose 
fibres of the hempen cord began to bristle. Franklin 
touched the key with his knuckle, and the electric 
spark was received, and thereby the identity of elec- 
tricity and lightning was verified. The fundamental 
truth of optics was also discovered in England. New- 
ton discovered that a beam of light, as emitted from the 
sun, consists of seven rays of different colours possess- 
ing different degrees of refrangibility. This great dis- 
covery was made by darkening a room and boring a 
hole in the window shutter, and letting a convenient 
quantity of the sun's light pass through a prism. The 
light was so refracted by its passage through the prism, 
as to exhibit all the different colours on the wall, form- 
ing an image about five times as long as it was broad; 
instead of forming a circular image, according to the 
received laws of refraction at that time, and of a white 
colour, according to the nature of light as then under- 
stood. In order to ascertain the true causes of the 
elongation and colours of the image, New r ton then 
placed a board with a small hole in it, behind the face 
of the prism and close to it, so that he could transmit 
through the hole any one of the colours, and keep back 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 9 

all the rest. For example, he first let the red light 
pass through and fall on the wall. He then placed an- 
other board, with a hole in it, near the wall where the 
red ray fell, so as to let it pass through the hole in the 
second board, and then he placed a prism behind this 
board, and let the red light pass through it near the wall. 
He then turned round the first prism so as to let all the 
colours pass in succession through these two holes, and 
he marked their places on the wall, and he saw by their 
places, that the red rays were less refracted by the se- 
cond prism, than the orange; the orange, less than the 
yellow, and so on, all being less refracted than the vio- 
let. From this experiment, Newton drew the grand 
conclusion that light is not homogeneous, but is com- 
posed of rays of different colours and of different de- 
grees of refrangibility. But the greatest of all human 
discoveries, the universality of the law of gravity, the 
foundation of physical astronomy, was discovered in 
England. Copernicus had discovered the motion of the 
earth on its axis around the sun; Kepler, that this motion 
around the sun, is in an elliptical orbit, with the sun in 
one. of its foci; and that an imaginary line drawn from 
the planet in its revolution, to the sun, describes equal 
areas in equal times; and that the square of the time 
that the planet takes in moving around the sun is equal 
to the cube of its distance from that body. This is the 
starting point where the discoveries of the English be- 
gin. It remained to inquire into the causes of these 
general facts which had been discovered by Copernicus 
and Kepler. 

In the year 1686, Newton, while sitting alone in his 
garden and reflecting upon the nature of gravity which 



10 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

causes all bodies to descend towards the centre of the 
earth, considering that this power suffers no sensible 
diminution at the greatest distances from the centre of 
the earth to which we can reach, being as great on the 
summits of the highest mountains as at the bottom o! 
the deepest mines, conjectured that perhaps it exten- 
ded further than was commonly supposed. He there- 
fore began to consider what would be its effects if it 
extended to the moon. That the motion of the moon 
was affected by this power, he conceived to be beyond 
a doubt; and further reflection led him to suppose that 
this body might by this power be held in its orbit 
around the earth. For, though gravity suffered no sen- 
ilble diminution at the comparatively small distance* 
from the centre of the earth to which we can go, yet be 
thought it highly probable, that it was greatly dimin- 
ished at the distance of the moon, and that it therefor* 
did not cause that body to tali to the earth. And he 
inferred, that if the moon be held in its orbit by the 
principle of gravity that the planets also must be held 
in their orbits by the same power, and that by com- 
paring the periods of the different planets with their 
distances from the sun, he might ascertain in what pro- 
portion the power by which they were held in their 
orbits decreased. By this process he arrived at the 
conclusion that it decreased in the duplicate propor- 
tion, or as the square of their distances from the sun. 
In order then to test the truth of the conclusion, that 
the law of the force by which the planets are drawn 
to the sun was that it decreased as the square of their 
distances from that luminary, he endavored to ascertain 
if such a force emanating from the earth and directed 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 11 

to the moon was sufficient to retain her in her orbits- 
To do this, it was necessary to compare the space 
through which heavy bodies fall in a given time to a 
given distance from the centre of the earth, viz: to its 
surface, with the space through which the moon, as it 
were, falls to the earth in the same time, while revolv- 
ing in a circular orbit; for in all his reasonings, he sup- 
posed the planets to move in orbits perfectly circular* 
At the time Newton made this calculation, he adopted 
the common estimate of the diameter of the earth, as 
then used by geographers and navigators, which was er- 
roneous. Therefore his conclusions were erroneous alsOo 
Some years afterwards, the discovery that a projectile 
would move in an elliptical orbit, when acted upon bj 
a force varying in the inverse ratio of the square of the 
distance, led Newton to demonstrate that a planet acted 
upon by an attractive force varying inversely as the 
square of the distances, will describe an elliptical orbit 
in one of whose foci the attractive force resides* Bat 
though Newton had thus established an hypothesii 
which explained the elliptical orbits of the planets, and 
this hypothesis was founded upon an induction of facts 
made by Kepler, and demonstrated by the application 
of mathematics by himself, yet an indispensable con- 
dition of the induction had not been fulfilled. He had 
not yet obtained any evidence that a force varying in^ 
versely as the square of the distance, did actually re- 
side in the sun and planets; because his calculations for 
testing this, founded upon a comparison of the space 
through which heavy bodies fall in a second of time 
to a given distance from the centre of the earth, with 
the space through which the moon, as it were, falls to 



12 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

the earth, in a second of time while revolving in a 
circular orbit, assumed an erroneous estimate of the 
diameter of the earth, as we have shown, and conse- 
quently did not test what it was intended to verify; but 
showed that the force which retains the moon in its 
orbit as deducted from the force which causes the fall 
of heavy bodies to the earth; is as one-sixth greater than 
that which is actually indicated in her circular orbit. — 
But M. Picard having in 1679 executed the measure- 
ment of a degree of the meridian, Newton afterwards 
deduced from it the true diameter of the earth, and 
trying his former calculation, he realized his expecta- 
tions; and found that the force of gravity which regu- 
lates the fall of bodies at the earth's surface, when 
diminished as the square of the distance of the moon 
from the earth, to be nearly equal to the centrifugal 
force of the moon as deduced from her observed distance 
and velocity; and he thus fulfilled the fundamental 
condition of the inductive method of investigation, of 
always ascribing a cause known to exist, to explain an 
effect. By this course of reasoning Newton connected 
the physics of the earth with the physics of the heavens, 
and established the universality of the law of gravita- 
tion. 

What more delightful employment can the specula- 
tive philosopher have than the contemplation of the 
grand discoveries which we have been considering! — 
To one who loves truth for its own sake, and feels de- 
light in the mere contemplation of harmonious and 
mutually dependent truths, the knowledge of such great 
truths are of sufficient value to repay him for the 
labour of discovery, even if they did not admit of any 



Ttt£ BACOKIAN PHILOSOPHY. 13 

practical application. To know what it is that paints 
the beautiful colours of the rainbow, and covers the 
hills and valleys in green, and gives the delicate tints 
to the flowers which illuminate the fields; to know 
that the scathing lightnings which rush with such tre- 
mendous fury from the vast magazines of the heavens, 
is the same with the spark rubbed from the cat's back; 
to know that the water which we drink and which 
appears so simple, is composed of two gases, one of 
which is more combustible than gunpowder, and pro- 
duces instant death when inhaled, and the other is the 
supporter of combustion^ though the two united is the 
chief agent by which we extinguish fire*, to know that 
the planets of such vast magnitude, and moving with 
such velocity through such boundless space are held in 
their orbits by the same force which causes an apple to 
fall to the ground; to know the times of eclipses and 
the returns of comets dashing with a velocity quicker 
than thought over millions of miles of space and re- 
turning with unerring certainty to the goal whence they 
set out: and all other wonders which natural philosophy 
reveals, must forever, as mere matters of intellectual 
contemplation, be considered as inestimable treasures. 
And the mere process of investigation according to the 
Baconian method, is one of the noblest and most de- 
lightful employments. The philosopher at almost 
every stage of his progress, is meeting with hints of 
greater things still undiscovered, which cheers the mind 
amidst its toil, with the hope of making still further 
progress; and new fields of discovery are continually 
opening in prospect and the light of his present discove- 
ries throwing enough of their rays across the darkness 
2 



14 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

before him, to reveal as much of other new truths as 
will stimulate him to continued exertion for their 
discovery: thus curiosity is ever kept alive, and exhaust- 
ed energies renovated in the laborious pursuits of 
knowledge. 

How utterly insignificant as mere matters of intellec- 
tual contemplation, is all the physical philosophy of the 
ancients in comparison with these magnificent discove- 
ries in the different sciences! And what can form a 
more striking contrast than the sublime argumentation 
of Newton and the petty sophistry of the philosophers 
of the middle age! What are the eloquent reveries 
of Plato and the ingenious reasoning of Aristotle in 
comparison with the mighty mensuration by which 
Newton beginning with the dust on the balance mea- 
sures the earth, and rising in the sublime argument 
measures planet after planet and weighing them,balances 
one against the other, and not content with holding as 
it were, worlds in the hollow of his hands, he measures 
and weighs systems of worlds; and his mighty calculus 
still not exhausted, he balances system of worlds 
against system of worlds, and embraces in his argument 
the infinitude of the universe, until the words of the 
sacred poet, "he weighed the mountains in the scales 
and the hills in a balance," intended to describe the 
omnipotence of the deity, fall short in describing the 
power of one of his creatures. The wisdom of the 
Academy and the Lyceum have been overshadowed by 
the glory of Cambridge, and Greece yields to England 
in philosophical renown! \. 

We see then, that as a mere matter of intellectual 
contemplation to satisfy the speculative mind, the Ba- 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 15 

conian philosophy is preeminently sublime. We will 
now show that it is also eminently practical; and in 
this particular, it differs from all the philosophy of the 
ancients, who thought that the only use of philosophy, 
was in its influence upon the mind in elevating it above 
the concerns of life, and thus purifying and preparing 
it for the philosophical beatitude of their 'heaven, 
into which none, but philosophers were to enter; and 
that the practical affairs of life belonged to those of 
common endowments who are fated by destiny to be 
mere ''hewers of stone and drawers of water.'' But 
far different is the spirit of the Baconian philosophy. 
Humbling itself before Christianity, it acknowledges 
it to be a revelation from heaven, pointing out the same 
way to future bliss, for the peasant and the philoso- 
pher, and that it only, has the power "to deliver man 
from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty 
of the sons of God;" and that though philosophy enlar- 
ges and elevates the mind and affords us unspeakable 
intellectual pleasure, yet that its chief office is to pro- 
mote the general well-being of man in this life, by 
connecting the sciences with the arts, and arming them 
with a power which mere empiricism can never attain. 
It is then the great excellence of the Baconian 
philosophy, that even those of its discoveries which 
have contributed most to the satisfaction of the specu- 
lative intellect and are apparently the most remote 
from everything like practical application to the com- 
forts of man, have frequently been applied to the most 
useful purposes of life. The discovery of the nature 
of light by Newton, at once led him to attempt a practi- 
cal application of it; and though nothing of importance 



16 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

resulted from his labours, yet Hall and afterwards 
Dolland constructed achromatic telescopes, which could 
never have been done, if the fact of the different re- 
frangibility of the different rays of light had not been 
known; and this discovery, was thus applied to the arts 
in accordance with the utilitarian spirit of the Baconi- 
an philosophy. Scarcely had Franklin discovered the 
nature of lightning, before he Constructed an apparatus 
to protect our buildings on land and our ships on the sea 
from the ravages of the electric fluid. And thus by a 
discovery apparently so remote from all practical utili- 
ty he disarmed the spirit of the storm of his thunders, 
and thereby showed to the world that knowledge is 
power. But the most fruitful practical applications 
have been made of chemjstrv ? Jt has been applied to 
agriculture, to medicine, and to the mechanical arts. — 
By analyzing the nature of soils and applying the 
principles thereby ascertained, to the improvements 
of agriculture, it has made the most sterile waste so 
fertile, as to yield all the various fruits of the earth in 
the richest abundance. Where not a blade of grass 
grew, now the most abundant harvests gladden the sight, 
as they spread out in ocean waves over the fields where 
chemistry has shed its fertilizing dews. And by its 
magic power, chemistry has released the various medi- 
cal agents which lie embedded in the innumerable ve- 
getable and mineral products of nature, and handed 
them over to the healing art, to aid the vital powers 
in throwing off from the body the many diseases which 
prey upon man. And its application to the mechanic 
arts, has bestowed the richest blessings upon man. — 
Sir H. Davy applied its principles in the construction 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 17 

of the safety lamp; by which man is enabled to walk 
with comparative safety in the bottoms of dark mines, 
with a light, amidst a gas more explosive than gunpow- 
der, where, without this lamp, the miner is frequently 
exposed to as much danger as though he were walking 
in a magazine of powder with a lighted torch; and thus 
thousands of lives and millions of money are saved by 
this one application of science to art. But the crown- 
ing invention of all, the one which constitutes the chief 
glory of science in its application to art, is the steam- 
engine. A profound chemical knowledge applied by 
the most exquisite mechanical skill, enabled James 
Watt to bring the steam-engine, which had been 
invented by Savery and Newcomen, to a degree of 
perfection which renders it the most valuable of all 
inventions of art. It brings under the control of man, 
an agent more potent than a hundred giants, swifter 
than the Arabian horse, and capable of assuming more 
forms in mechanism, than a Proteus, so as to apply 
itself to all kinds of work. It can pull a hundred 
wagons as easily as one — perform one kind of labour 
as easily as another. It is on the ocean, it is on the 
rivers, it is on the mountains, it is in the valleys, it is 
at the bottom of mines, it is in shops, it is every where 
at w r ork. It propels the ship, it rows the boat, it cuts, 
it pumps, it hammers, it cards, it spins, it weaves, it 
washes, it cooks, it prints, and releases man of nearly 
all bodily toil. This mighty agent is revolutionizing 
the world — annihilating time and space by its speed, 
and bringing the most remote parts of the earth togeth- 
er. And all this mighty power is gained by a scientific 
knowledge of the nature of the atmosphere which we 
2* 



18 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY* 

breathe, and the water which we drink and applying 
this knowledge to mechanism, so as to make these so 
familiar objects work for man. 

Here let us pause, and reflect upon the benefits 
conferred on England by the Baconian philosophy. — 
It has made her the greatest nation in the world. — 
It has done more to develop her wealth than all the 
legislation of all the statesmen who have adorned her 
history by their financial skill. It has given her hun- 
dreds of bushels of wheat, thousands of yards of cloths, 
and bestowed innumerable comforts, where without its 
instrumentality, there would have been but one. It 
has enabled her to extend her commerce over the 
whole earth, and bring into her treasury countless milli- 
ons of wealth. And this commerce is the source of 
her great power, both in war and peace, and is the 
means by which she is controling the destinies of the 
world. And though her whole policy is to extend her 
commerce by cultivating the arts of peace, yet it is 
true, that she sometimes (and we abhor the wickedness 
of it) pushes her commerce by the thunders of her 
cannon into regions where ignorance forbids its en- 
trance; but the people who are thus treated, will in time 
learn, that it is equally for their benefit, with that of 
England, that her trade is extended to their shores, 
and they will feel that peace is the true policy of the 
world, and that all men are mutually interested in each 
other's welfare and should live like members of one 
family. The commercial spirit of England is also the 
power which pioneers the way for the other great influ- 
ences which she is exerting upon the civilization of 
the world. Her sciences, her arts and her literature 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 19 

are carried on the wings of her commerce over the 
whole earth. And the Christian religion is soon found 
smoothing the thorny pillow of the dying man, and 
pouring the balm of consolation over his drooping 
spirit, in every clime where British commerce has 
placed her foot. 

But the Baconian philosophy is not confined to phys- 
ical nature, as has been often asserted. It embraces 
all knowledge. Bacon expressly says that his meth- 
od of investigation is intended to be applied to all the 
sciences. '-Some may raise this question (says he) 
rather than objection, whether we talk of perfecting 
natural philosophy alone according to our method, or 
the other sciences also, such as logic, ethics, politics. 
We certainly intend to comprehend them all. And 
as common logic, which regulates matters by syllo- 
gisms, is applied not only to natural, but also to every 
other science, so our inductive method likewise com- 
prehends them all." And in his advancement of learn- 
ing, where he defines the boundaries of the different 
sciences, he has devoted as much attention to the in- 
tellectual and moral sciences as to the physical. But 
it is nevertheless true, that his labours were directed 
chiefly towards physical science, because, in this, there 
was the greater necessity for exertion; as it was prin- 
cipally through ignorance of this part of knowledge, 
that man was delayed in his career of civilization. — 
And many, from the fact that Bacon has said so much 
about physical nature, misconceiving the scope and spir- 
it of his philosophy, have asserted that it is confined to 
sense, and is utilitarian, in the gross meaning of avarice, 
and that it necessarily leads to a selfish moral philosophy. 



20 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY^ 

It has happened to Bacon, as to other philosophers, 
who have originated a new movement of the human 
mind, that the errors of many of his successors who 
claimed, and many who did not claim to be his disci- 
ples, have been charged to his philosophy, as its legit- 
imate fruits. The doctrines of Hobbs, and Hume, and 
Hartly, and others in England, and of Condillac, and 
Helvetius and D'Holbach and the host of infidels and 
atheists in France, have been again and again pro- 
claimed as the legitimate and necessary deductions 
from the principles of the Baconian philosophy. The 
doctrines of the philosophers just mentioned, resulted 
from these philosophers seizing upon some one only of 
the great principles of the Baconian philosophy, and 
carrying it out to the wildest extremes, without modi- 
fying it by the other principles of the system, and are, 
therefore, at most, nothing more than the errors which 
necessarily result in the development of the Baconian 
philosophy, and are not a part of that philosophy, but 
merely the exuviae thrown off from it as it passes 
through the process of development. Cicero, in his 
De Oratore, has remarked the very same thing of So- 
< rates which we are now remarking of Bacon. "For, as 
they all,' says he, "arose from Socrates, whose discour- 
ses were so various, different, and universally diffused, 
that each learned somewhat that was different from the 
other; hence families, as it were, of philosophers were 
propagated, widely differing among themselves and 
vastly unconnected with, and unlike one another; yet 
all of them affected to be called, and thought them- 
selves the disciples of Socrates. For, in the first place, 
Aristotle and Xenocrates were the immediate scholars 



THfe BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 



21 



of Plato; the one of which was the founder of the 
Peripatetics, the other of the Academics. Then from 
Antisthenes, who admired chiefly the patience and ab- 
stemiousness of Socrates in his discourses, arose first 
the Cynics and then the Stoics. Next fromAristippus, 
who was charmed with the sensual part of Socrates? 
discourses, the sect of the Cyrenians flowed, whose 
doctrines, he and his successors maintained without 
any disguise of sentiment. There were also other 
sects of philosophers, who generally professed them- 
selves to be the followers of Socrates." We see then, 
that all the different sects of philosophers, who suc- 
ceeded Socrates, the morose and abstemious Stoic, and 
the gay and voluptuous Cyrenian, all claimed to be the 
true disciples of Socrates ? and that Cicero says that their 
errors resulted from their seizing upon one principle 
only of the philosophy of Socrates, and losing sight of 
the other principles. The Stoics seized upon patience 
and abstemiousness, and the Cyrenians upon sensual 
enjoyments, both of which, when modified by the other, 
are Correct principles, but when carried to extremes , 
each is Wrong, and will lead to false moral philosophy. 
Having thus indicated the source of the error which 
we are combating, we will now show that it is an error. 
The position that the Baconian philosophy leads to a 
selfish morality, is maintained by many on the ground 
that the Baconian philosophy admits but one source of 
ideas, viz: sensation. The argument is, that within the 
sphere of sensation, there is no idea of right and 
wrong — that pleasure and pain are the only ideas fur- 
nished by sensation to denote the moral qualities of hu- 
man actions, and that we approve of some acts, be- 



22 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY- 

cause they give pleasure, and disapprove of others, be- 
cause they give pain; and that, therefore, according 
to this theory of the mind, utility is virtue, and self- 
interest the ground of moral obligation. But we shall 
show in the 2nd chap, of the second part of this dis- 
course that the Baconian philosophy admits two sour- 
ces of ideas, viz: sensation and consciousness; and there- 
fore this argument falls to the ground; because the ideas 
of right and wrong are developed in consciousness 
and it is in consciousness, that the Baconian philosophy 
lays the foundations of morality, and not in sensation. 
According to the Baconian philosophy, we must ex- 
amine all the facts of man's moral constitution, and es- 
tablish the fundamental truths of moral philosophy by 
psychological observation. Rejecting all innate mor= 
al principles or notions, it appeals to experience, to 
both the light of nature and revelation. It therefore 
leaves man perfectly free to examine all the facts of 
his moral constitution, and to establish whatever sys- 
tem of morals, a sound induction may warrant, whether 
the selfish or the disinterested system. When then, 
we look into the heart of man, Ave there find certain 
instinctive affections, such as love, hope, fear, anger, 
pity and many others which are all certainly disinter- 
ested in their nature; as they seek their respective ob- 
jects, by natural impulse or sympathy, without the 
mind's thinking of anything beyond, whether their sa- 
tisfaction or disappointment will be agreeable or disa- 
greeable. We also find in the mind, the power to dis- 
tinguish moral good and evil. It is upon these attri- 
butes of our spiritual nature, that the Baconian philo- 
sophy founds morality. But let us inquire into these 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 23 

facts further, and ascertain the relation in which the 
affections stand, to the power in the mind to distinguish 
good and evil, or in other words ascertain the connec- 
tion between the feelings and the intellect. If a beau- 
tiful object be presented to the mind either through 
sense, memory or imagination, and occupies its atten- 
tion exclusively, the emotion of love, is by a great 
psychological law, necessarily excited in the mind, 
and will continue until the object is removed or for- 
gotten, or some other object is presented in its stead. 
For it is a law of our mental constitution, that every 
emotion whether of love or hatred is allied to some ob- 
ject of perception or memory or imagination, and is 
dependent upon it, as its antecedent or cause, and the 
emotion never can be excited in the mind except by its 
appropriate object being in the view of the mind, and 
never can cease to exist in the mind until the object is 
forgotten or removed from its view. Just as the mind 
sees, so the heart feels. It is thus manifest that con- 
siderations of self have no agency in producing our 
emotions whether of love or resentment, in the natural 
operations of the mind, and consequently the great law 
of the affections on which morality is based, is disin- 
terested, operates uninfluenced by considerations of 
self. But this connection between the perceptions and 
the affections shows that the correctness of our moral 
philosophy will depend upon the enlightenment of our 
intellect and the purity of our affections. That good- 
ness is goodness is hard to be perceived by the great- 
est minds, if the moral feelings are corrupt. This is a 
truth written in blood upon the pages of history. But 
whenever the mind perceives goodness or moral beau- 



24 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

ty, the heart is necessitated by the great law of the 
affections just indicated, to feel the emotion proper to 
it, of love, and when it sees vice or moral ugliness, to 
feel the emotion proper to it, of aversion, and this with- 
out any considerations of self mingling in it. We see 
then by this analytical induction, that the principle of 
morality is disinterested; because the Creator by the 
great law of the affections has made it imperative on 
us to love virtue for its own nature, and to hate vice 
for its own nature, having made it natural for the mind 
to love virtue and hate vice by creating the relations 
of love and hatred between them. But as man is not 
under a law of necessity like mere brute matter and 
incapable of change, the obliquity of his mind may 
become such as to render him unable to see the love- 
liness of virtue, which is the same as not seeing vir- 
tue at all, for loveliness is its very essence, just as the 
eye may be so diseased as in jaundice, as to render him 
unable to see the real colours of objects, and the sin- 
fulness of his own heart will cast its hue over virtue, 
just as the jaundice of the eye will cast its hue over 
the objects of vision, and neither the loveliness of the 
one nor the colours of the other can be perceived.-^- 
The truth is, the perception and the emotion consti- 
tute the state the mind is in, when any object is pres- 
ent in thought, and they cannot be separated. They 
are not distinct acts of the mind, but are the elements 
which make up the act of apprehension or spiritual 
discernment. And it was from the fact, that Helvetius 
did not discern the truth, that perception and emotion 
are both elements of spiritual discernment, and dwelt 
too exclusively upon the phenomena of emotion, that 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 25 

he fell into the error that all mental acts are nothing 
but feeling — that to think and to judge are but to feel; 
and that Diderot in criticising this obvious error of 
Helvetius, fell into the opposite one, and maintained 
in his essay on the origin and nature of the beautiful, 
that the perception of beauty by the mind is a matter 
of reason alone, like the perception of the truth that 
two and two make four. We see then, that according 
to the psychological facts which the Baconian philoso- 
phy points out as the foundation ot morality, that its 
principle is disinterested. Man does certainly feel the 
moral rightness of truth and justice, without any view 
at the time to their consequences, just as he feels an 
appetite for food without any view to its utility upon 
the animal economy — the one feeling terminates in 
virtue for its own sake and the other on food for its 
own sake. But God in his great benevolence has so 
organized the system of things, as to make that which 
is right, useful in such a vast majority of instances, 
as to induce us in cases where it is doubtful what is 
right, to use the relative utilities of the acts as the 
standard of their rightness, and it has indeed induced 
some to maintain that utility is the essence of right. 

But some contend that the Baconian philosophy 
leads to a selfish morality, in a different mode from that 
which we have just examined. That it tends to cor- 
rupt the moral feelings by infusing into them, the spirit 
of selfishness, in directing so much inquiry into the 
developement of the resources of physical nature; and 
thus making man to think continually about his physi- 
cal comforts, and to place too much value upon the 
riches of this world. That the Baconian philosophy 
3 



£6 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY 

has done more than all other philosophies put together^ 
to develop the resources of physical nature, and there- 
by to multiply the physical comforts of man, we have 
already shown; and so far from shunning this result, 
or wishing to conceal it, it has been the main purpose 
of this part of our discourse, to exhibit the fact in all 
its amplitude, and to proclaim it as the chief glory of 
the philosophy which we expound. If such a result 
makes man selfish, then is the destitution of barbarism, 
better fitted to produce a sound morality than the 
wealth of civilization. Then is man, clothed in skins, 
possessed of more generous sympathies, than when 
clothed in the comfortable fabrics of cultivated art; and 
his heart contracts to a narrower selfishness, when he 
accumulates wealth by millions, than when he saves 
it by miteso If these be true propositions, then, have 
we entirely misread human history. The fallacy of 
these conclusions, shows the falsity of the premises 
from which they are deduced. And it is evident, that 
the whole tendency of the Baconian philosophy is to 
elevate the condition of man. It enables him -to sup- 
ply his physical wants by a small portion of labour, 
and to devote his consequent leisure to the cultivation 
of science and art. And it dignifies and ennobles the 
employments which are devoted to the promotion of 
our physical comforts, by connecting them with the 
sciences. Under its influence, mechanics are no longer 
mere handicraftsmen, but are men of science, posses- 
sed of enlarged views of human advancement. — - 
"Watt and Fulton occupy the highest places 
amongst the benefactors of mankind; and are quite as 
fit to join that divine assembly of spirits, where Cicero, 



1THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 27 

in his De Senectute, rejoices that he shall meet Cato, 
as either of those sages of antiquity. 

But let us throw aside all speculation, and look to 
facts. Where is the nation that can boast a literature 
pervaded by a loftier morality than England? It is 
true that some of her writers maintain the selfish sys- 
tem of morals, and some the disinterested. But this 
has been the case at every era of philosophical devel- 
opement, in every nation of the civilized world. In 
morals, as in every thing else, men often bewilder 
themselves in the minuteness of analysis. Those 
who maintain the system of disinterested morals differ 
as to the basis of morals. One class referring our 
moral ideas to a special faculty, termed the moral 
sense,others to reason, and others to both the reason and 
the sensibility. And those who maintain the selfish 
system differ widely, also as to the basis of their prin- 
ciple. This is inseparable from the nature of the 
subject, for it is not purely a philosophical subject: but 
derives more of its light from revelation than from 
nature; and therefore, in attempting to ascertain the 
philosophical foundation of moral obligation, we shall 
often find our line too short to reach the bottom. The 
difficulties are inherent in the subject; and they have 
been more nearly overcome by the English than any 
other people. And not only is the literature which 
has grown up under the influence of the Baconian 
philosophy pervaded by a lofty morality, but the peo- 
ple who have drunk most copiously at its fountains, 
and whose mental habits and moral principles have 
been formed under its influence, are distinguished by 
their disinterested benevolence. They dispense milli- 



29 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

ons annually in charities at home; and their benevolent 
societies are healing the sick, clothing the naked, and 
feeding the hungry, and instructing the ignorant in 
every clime of the earth. 

In examining this question, we must distinguish the 
commercial spirit of England, from her spirit of phi- 
lanthrophy. While the first toils by day and by night 
to accumulate wealth, the latter toils by day and by 
night to expend it in alleviating the sufferings of the 
afflicted of all nations, and kindreds, and tongues. — 
How superficial and ignorant then, is the opinion so 
often expressed, that the Baconian philosophy leads to 
a selfish morality! We have shown the contrary, both 
by philosophical analysis and historical fact, which 
are the only two modes of proof of which any subject 
is susceptible. 

The same class of thinkers who maintain that the 
Baconian philosophy is purely sensual, a mere pander 
to our animal comforts, maintain also, that it has no 
ideal, but is utterly inconsistent with all the arts of 
beauty. That its main object is to make money plenty 
in men's pockets; and that the spirit and style of its 
kindred poetry is exemplified in the following couplet: 

"A penny sav'd is tvvo-penee clear, 
A pin a day 's a groat a year," 

Let us examine the truth of this charge. The Ba- 
conian philosophy, as we shall show in the second 
chapter of the second part of this discourse, recogni- 
ses consciousness as fully as it does sensation, as a 
source of ideas, and^consequently just as fully embra- 
ces within its scope, the world of mind with all its 
subjective realities, as it does the world of matter with 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY 



29 



ail its objective realities. It takes therefore in its view, 
all the phenomena of the spiritual world, as well as of 
the material, and all the adaptations between these 
different worlds, from which the true theory of the 
sublime and beautiful id art, can be educed. And it 
teaches a grander and a nobler, because a truer style of 
literature, than any piylosophy which has been the 
source of culture to any people known to history. It 
takes nature for its model — the archetype which God 
has made, — and repudiates all that is speculative in 
taste, as it does all that is speculative in reasoning. — 
And the true theory of taste, is to imitate nature, not 
it is true, by a servile copy, but by exalting her — by 
making her beauty more beautiful, and her sublimity, 
more sublime — but still by letting the beauty and 
sublimity, be the beauty and sublimity of nature, merely 
exalted. For the human heart was formed to suit the 
natural, and the natural was formed to suit the human 
heart, to call forth all its powers. Some things, by a 
great pathological law are agreeable to the human 
heart, and others, disagreeable. Some things naturally 
excite the feelings of sublimity, and others, the feel- 
ings of beauty. These things are formed respectively 
by the Creator for the very purpose. It is an adapta- 
tion of the external world, to the spiritual constitution 
of man. The province then, of the science of taste, 
is to ascertain, what those things are, and the distin- 
guishing property which constitutes them, in both the 
material and spiritual worlds, which naturally? and of 
their own original adaptation, excite the emotion of 
the beautiful or the sublime, or any other emotion, 
which it is the object of art to call forth. For some 
3* 



30 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

things will excite these emotions by association, and 
not of their own nature; and consequently are not so 
well calculated to produce these emotions, as the things 
from which they have derived this power by associa- 
tion; and in fact cannot excite these emotions at all, in 
minds in which, they have not been associated, with 
the things from which they have derived this adven- 
titious power.' Truth or conformity to nature, then 3 
is the great standard of taste. For there is a true in 
taste, a true in morals, as well as a true in matter; and 
all of them are to be ascertained by inductive obser- 
vation, and not by speculative conjecture. Surely 
then, the literature which springs up as an offshoot of 
that philosophy which directs all our observations to 
nature, and admits no criterions whether in science or 
art, but the natural, is most likely to approach nearest 
to nature in its representations of the sublime and the 
beautiful and all that affects the human heart. And 
did the speculations of the philosophers of ancient 
times and of the middle ages ever present such sublime 
and such beautiful visions before the fancy, as the Ba- 
conian philosophy has spread out in the vast perspec- 
tive of modern discoveries? The truth is, the views 
of nature as presented in these discoveries have a 
grace and a grandeur, a beauty and a sublimity far 
above all the visions of fancy that ever lay in the 
enchanting walks of speculation or poetry. Induction 
has in fact evolved higher standards of sublimity and 
beauty, than the imagination ever bodied forth in its 
most rapturous visions of the ideal. How then, can 
the Baconian philosophy lead to a mean literature, 
when it familiarises the mind to the most sublime and 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 31 

beautiful objects of contemplation? It must have the 
opposite effect. It must give a loftier ideal to the ora- 
tor and the poet than the mere speculative philosophies 
ever furnished. And no writer has presented a more 
exalted estimate of poetry, and delineated its high 
behests with more accuracy than Bacon himself. "The 
use of poesy (says he in the advancement of learning, 
hath been to give some shadow of satisfaction to the 
mind of man in those points wherein the nature ot 
things doth deny it, the world being in proportion infe- 
rior to the soul: by reason whereof there is agreeable 
to the spirit of man a more ample greatness, a more 
exact goodness, and a more absolute variety than can 
be found in the nature of things. Therefore, because 
the acts or events of true history have not that magni- 
tude which satisfieth the mind of man, poesy feigneth 
acts and events greater and more heroical: because 
true history propoundeth the successes and issues of 
actions not so agreeable to the merits of virtue and vice, 
therefore poesy feigns them more just in retribution, 
and more according to revealed providence: because 
true history representeth actions and events more ordi- 
nary and less interchanged, therefore poesy endueth 
them with more rareness and more unexpected and 
alternative variations: so as it appeareth that poesy 
serveth and conferreth to magnanimity, morality and 
delectation. And therefore it was ever thought to 
have some participation of divineness, because it doth 
raise and erect the mind by submitting the shows of 
things to the desires of the mind; whereas reason doth 
buckle and bow the mind unto the nature of things." 
This admirable delineation of the objects and nature 



32 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY* 

of poetry, sounds doubtless, in the ears of those whose 
opinions we are examining, more like the language of 
Homer or Dante or Milton discanting on their divine 
art, than like the language of the father of the expe- 
rimental philosophy. The truth is, the mighty and 
various and finely-fashioned mind of Bacon is as little 
understood by this class of thinkers as the spirit and 
Fcope of his philosophy. His mind was a mirror held 
up to nature, which reflected it, in all its vastness and 
all its minuteness, all its sublimity and all its beauty: 
revealing as much from the spiritual world as from the 
material— from the dark abysses of the human heart, 
as from the hidden depths of matter. 

The chief ground, on which, the opinion that the 
Baconian philosophy leads to a mean literature, appears 
to rest, as far as any thing definite can be gathered 
from the loose and vague generality of the language 
in which it is usually expressed, is that this philosophy 
directs the mind so exclusively to considerations of 
utility, that it renders it incapable of appreciating the 
beautiful. This is a singularly erroneous view of the 
matter. ffl For it is not immediate considerations of 
utility which prompts the Baconian philosopher to his 
inquiries. But it is the love of truth — the delight of 
viewing new truths evolved in ever varying forms of 
beauty from the multifarious facts which beset the path 
of investigation — the felt triumph of the march over 
the difficulties of science, as the enquirer steps from 
altitude to altitude on the before untrodden steeps 
of investigation, until he reaches a summit, from 
whence he can descry the goodly classifications and 
the harmonies of principle evolving themselves from 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 3$ 

the chaos of facts which lie spread out in such bound- 
less profusion over the vast regions of the universe. 
These are the considerations which prompt the Baco- 
nian philosopher to his inquiries. And after he has 
discovered some new principle, then it is, that in ac- 
cordance with the spirit of his philosophy, he enters 
upon consideratious of utility in its applications to the 
relief of human wants. The Baconian philosophy, 
though considerations of utility embrace so much of 
its aim, and constitute so much of its glory, does not 
reject the beautiful, but embraces both it and the use- 
ful in perfect harmony, within the universality of its 
doctrines. And though the physical sciences to which 
this philosophy has directed so much attention, are 
emphatically the sciences of utility, still their study, 
as the opinion which we are examining presupposes, 
does not necessarily lead the mind off from the study 
of the beautiful, or blunt its relish for objects of taste. 
The relation between the different branches of knowl- 
edge is much more intimate than this supposition as- 
sumes. Such is this intimacy, that the physical sci- 
ence, which of all others, appears to the superficial 
observer, to be the most remote from any affinity to the 
arts of beauty, has been applied to two of these arts 
with the most felicitous success. Sir Charles Bell has 
applied his discoveries in the nervous system to the 
arts of painting and sculpture. Having discovered 
that, besides the two great systems of nerves of sensa- 
tion and motion, other nerves went to the mus- 
cles and moved them, and that these arose from a tract 
of the spine separate from either of the two columns 
originating the other nerves, and that they went chief- 



34 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

ly to those muscles which subserve the purposes of res- 
piration; and that as the function of respiration in man 
was not designed for the sole purpose of vitalising the 
blood in the lungs, but also, for communicating the 
thoughts and passions of his soul, he had the genius to 
perceive^ that the nerves regulating respiration, must 
be the nerves of expression and emotion. He there- 
fore under the impulse of a most exalted genius for the 
arts of beauty, developed this grand idea, and wrote 
his celebrated work, the "Philosophy of Expression," 
and in this way applied his discoveries of the nerves 
of respiration to teaching the painter and the sculp- 
tor, a knowledge by which he may imitate and under- 
stand and correctly depict the evervarying play of hu* 
man passion. And thus a man who spent his life in dis- 
secting the bodies of his fellow men and of the infe- 
rior animals, could pass out of this butcherly employ- 
ment, as those whose opinions we are examining would 
esteem it, and teach us how to breathe life and feeling 
into the canvass and the marble. And Bell himself was 
one of the finest painters of his day — was no less 
skilful with the pencil of the painter, than with the 
knife of the Surgeon. Though, after the battle of 
Waterloo, he went to the scene of slaughter and spent 
days and nights amidst the dead and dying, sleeping 
only one hour and a half out of the twenty four, for 
the purpose of perfecting himself in military surgery, 
yet at a later period of his life, we find him making a 
pilgrimage to Rome, to view in that imperial city the 
noble remains of ancient art, to enable him to put the 
finishing touch upon his "Philosophy of Expression/' 
See then! how extraordinary and mysterious, is the 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 35 

connection between utility and beauty, between the 
anatomy of the nervous system and the arts of painting 
and sculpture. The same discoveries are applied to 
the arts of utility and the arts of beauty, to medicine 
and to painting and sculpture. 

But let us illustrate this point a little further. — 
Geometricians have discovered what is the curve of 
the greatest resistance or solidity, and have thus estab- 
lished a fact of the greatest utility in architecture. — 
Michael Angelo in forming the model of the dome of 
St. Peter's at Rome, gave it that oval or curve which 
appeared to his judgement a* an artist, to be the most 
beautiful as drawn on the given breadth and height. 
And such is the exquisite beauty of the dome that i^ 
fills every beholder with admiration. It is said, that a 
distinguished geometrician M. de la Hire being at 
Rome, was so struck by the elegance of this structure, 
that he determined to inquire into the rationale of its 
impression on the mind; and on examining the geom- 
etrical properties of the curve of its outline, he found 
that it was that of the greatest resistance or solidity. — 
And thus it is ascertained, that in this instance, what 
is the most solid or useful in art is also the most beau- 
tiful. And what an extraordinary proof does it furnish 
of the sublimity of the genius of Michael Angelo for 
t/.e beautiful in art, that in his attempts to sketch the 
oval outline of the greatest beauty for the dome, he 
should by the mere exercise of his judgement as an 
artist, have hit upon the exact curve with mathemati- 
cal precision. For the identity of the curve of the 
greatest beauty with that of the greatest utility could 
never have been ascertained, except by some sublime 



36 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

genius in the felicity of his judgment, ascertaining 
the first 3 as it were,by an inspired intuition, and then the 
geometrician by the unerring calculus of his science 
discovering that what the artist has thus conceived to 
be the most beautiful oval outline, is the exact mathe- 
matical curve of the greatest resistance. And this, 
upon the doctrine of probabilities, amounts almost to 
a demonstration, that the curves of utility and beauty 
are the same. 

But the fact, that utility and beauty are of a very 
kindred nature, or rather, that the first is often an 
important ingredient of the last, does not need further 
illustration. For so frequently are they found conjoined 
both in art and nature, that some philosophers, though 
very erroneously, have been led to insist, that utility 
is the essence of beauty — that beauty consists in the 
fitness of things or the adaptation of parts; just as 
some philosophers have been led by a like partial view, 
to insist that utility is the essence of moral good, from 
the frequency of the union of the expedient and the 
right in the moral economy of the world. 

We can now, from the altitude to which our annaly- 
sis has carried us take a wide survey of the topic 
which we are discussing, and see by the light of sci- 
ence, how ignorant and groveling is that view of the 
Baconian philosophy, which sees in its vast range 
nothing but a sordid utility, while, that utility which 
is consistent with all that is noble in morality and sub- 
lime and beautiful in art, is the doctrine which it 
te?xhes, from the first aphorism in the Novum Organ - 
on, to the end of its last lesson. 

.But it is useless to dwell longer upon philosophical 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 37 

analysis, when we have historical proof that the Ba- 
conian philosophy is consistent with the arts of beauty, 
in the noble productions of English literature; For the 
literature of every nation partakes of the nature of its 
philosophy, as the very charge which we are consid- 
ering assumes. Where then is there a nobler litera- 
ture, than that which has been cultivated in the same 
soil and by the same people, with the Baconian philo- 
sophy? Shakspeare, who was the cotemporary and 
friend of Bacon, and whose productions are so sig- 
nally marked with the common sense which, arising in 
the Baconian philosophy, pervades the whole of Eng- 
lish civilization, stands at the head of the dramatic 
writers of the world. As though he had borrowed 
the magic wand of nature herself, he creates all beings 
with the same ease that she does, and fixes them in 
their appropriate employments, and plans and executes 
their different offices, with an exactitude which shows 
that every act proceeds from its natural motive, and 
every destiny from a plan of coincidents in exact con- 
formity to the dispensations of Providence. The most 
dreadful passions are managed with as easy a conformity 
to nature, as the most gentle. Murder, with its ferocity 
and its relenting, its determination and its hesitancy, 
before it reddens its hands in blood, and its remorse, 
and its imaginative agony, after it has done the dark 
deed, is dramatized with as much perfection as if the 
poet had seen with his eye the naked heart of the 
murderer throbbing in guilt; And with equal ease, 
true love is presented in all its artlessness, whispering 
its affection in words as soft and simple and sweet, as 
the attic bee ever distilled upon the lips of a Grecian 
4 



38 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

shepherdess; or else, sitting silent, under the restrain- 
ing diffidence of a pure heart, "until concealment, like 
a worm in the bud, feeds upon her damask cheek." — 
And jealousy, that monster of suspicion, to whom, 
"trifles light as air, are confirmation strong as proofs 
of holy writ," is presented in all his odiousness. And 
avarice standing by his bond, and humour holding both 
his sides, and every human passion are presented in 
ideal perfection. The dark, and awful, and mysteri- 
ous abyss of the human haart is completely fathomed 
and the poet sees by the light of Christianity, how, 
fearfully and wonderfully it is made, and paints it, as 
with a pencil dipped in inspiration. And though 
Greece had her Homer, England has her Milton; and 
never since the angels' harps, which hailed the morn 
of the creation, has a nobler been strung than his. — 
The angels sang the joys of life, Milton the woes of 
death. And did a deeper melody, and fuller of the 
dirgelike sounds of woe, ever flow from the versifica- 
tion of poetry? Was the great epic of eternal death 
in all its horrors, ever before made a reality to the 
living? Catching the sublime pathos of the old poets 
of Judea, and the fire and finish and copiousness of 
Greece, and transforming and subordinating all to the 
type of his own mighty genius, he has made a poem 
worthy of the great theme of the fall of man. The 
contrast between paradisaical innocence and happiness 
and infernal wickedness and misery is presented in 
terrific reality. Such is the grace and beauty and 
loveliness of the first woman as she appears to the 
creative fancy of the poet, that he represents Satan, 
though with a bosom filled with the malice of hell* 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 39 

and intent upon the destruction of man, merely because 
man was innocent and happy, as captivated for a mo- 
ment by her charms as he beheld her alone, amidst the 
rich shrubbery of Eden, enchanting the scene of bliss 
she moved in. But this exquisite sympathy of the 
poet for true loveliness, does not, for one moment, lead 
his judgement astray, so as to make him soften the 
character of Satan For the unconquerable maligni- 
ty and insatiable hate of the arch fiend, is depicted in 
all its dreadful deformity; and the horrors of hell are 
seen amidst the "darkness visible," in such horrifying 
import as to show that "there, hope never comes, that 
comes to all.'* The poet is always master of himself; 
is never overpowered by the sublimity, nor enchain- 
ed by the beauty of his conceptions: but with the self- 
possession of a great artist, he sets forth every thing 
in its proper position, and in its proper character, and 
in language so expressive and so suited to every topic, 
as to place him perhaps at the very head of the great 
masters of diction. And Butler, in his Hudibras, has 
given to the world, the great epic of ridicule. With a 
fancy alive to the ludicrous, he has caught its minutest 
shades in every action of life, and presented them in 
an epic poem; and thereby the majestic epic becomes 
ludicrous. The conceptions of the poem are ludicrous, 
the language is ludicrous, and even the very rhymes. 
The poet, it is true, shoots keen shafts at his fellow- 
men, but they are dipped in the unction of good-natur e , 
and not in the venom of malice. Such a poem furn- 
ishes entertainment to one of the most important fa- 
culties of the human soul, the sense of the ludicrous — 
which ministers so much to the smiles of home, the 



40 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

gaieties of companionship* and by its goodly influences 
so often sweetens the sourness of our feelings amidst 
the annoyances and the ills of life, and opens the heart 
to the frailties of human kind, and makes us sympa- 
thise with the whole race, rich and poor, learned and 
ignorant, as we see their extravagancies through the 
amiable medium of a laughing heart — *and is therefore 
worthy a place amongst the great works of art. And 
Robert Burns, with his harp, whose golden touch sent 
forth tones so soft, and sad and tender, is heard amidst 
the choir of English poetry, reviving by his natural 
strains, the youthful freshness of human feeling, and 
keeping in harmony, those delicately tuned chords of 
the heart, which in the trials of life are so apt to lose 
the sweetness of their primitive melody. But, we will 
notjparticularise further^ for the English muse has sung 
of every theme in original strains; and has also proved 
the beauty,and strength, and copiousness and flexibility 
of the English language by translating into it the master- 
pieces of antiquity, and showed that the streams are 
almost as pure in these channels, as in their Grecian 
and Roman fountains. The prose literature of Eng- 
land also, is rich in its abundance of matter and excel- 
lence of style and the wide range of its topics. Her 
historians are superior to any of modern times, and 
perhaps equal to those of ancient. Her orators, as 
suited to the sphere of modern civilization, are equal 
to any in any period of human history. In profound 
views of human nature, in far insight into the policy 
of legislation, and in all the knowledge of statesman- 
ship, English oratory is far before that of antiquity. — . 
And in the mere art, English oratory is not easily 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 41 

surpassed. In the choice of those topics, both local 
and general, which lead the intellect and the heart 
captive; and in the easy and shining fluency of narra- 
tive, the sparkling ripples of wit, the bold, and head- 
long and dashing cataracts of declamation, and the full 
and swelling, and sweeping and overwhelming tide of 
argument, and the lightning's flash of suddenly pro- 
voked invective which illuminates the whole flood of 
speech, and falls mercilessly upon its victim, it may 
well compare with that of any nation ancient or mod- 
ern. In criticism also, whether exegetical or purely 
rhetorical, English literature is highly distinguished. 
And as a specimen of historical criticism - , there is 
nothing so ingenious, so original, so masterly, so tri- 
umphant and so to be marvelled at, as Paley's "Horse 
Paulinae/ 7 It is a wonder of ingenuity — a miracle of 
logical acumen. Facts in the epistles of Paul, 
which separate!} send forth a mere glimmer of light, 
and which are apparently so unconnected as never to 
be at all associated in thought, by even careful readers, 
are selected and brought together in logical order, and 
the feeble lights of each are so concentrated upon the 
fact sought after, and the fact is so illuminated in every 
point, that you can no more doubt of its truth, than 
you can of the reality of day, when the sun ascends the 
meridian. In prose fiction too, what literature can 
compare with the English? Where else, can so unique 
a group of such masterly productions of their kind 
be found, as the Pilgrim's Progress of Bunyan, the 
Robinson Crusoe of De Foe, the Gulliver's Travels of 
Swift, and the Tristram Shandy of Sterne? And how 
many thousands of all cultivated nations, have been 
4* 



4% THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

charmed by the magic writings of Walter Scott! The 
young and the old, the learned and the ignorant, the 
wicked and the pious, have all been carried along on 
the enchanting tide of his narrative as it flowed from 
its exhaustless fountain, through the ever-varying 
scenes of an epitomized world, and all have been equal- 
ly delighted with the wonderful exhibition. Such 
then, is the literature, laden with so many masculine 
beauties, which has been cultivated in the same soil 
and by the same people, with the Baconian philosophy. 
How erroneous then is the opinion, that the Baconian 
philosophy has no ideal, but is confined to sense, and 
leads to a mean literature. 

While answering the charge just considered, we 
have admitted that the literature of every nation or 
epoch partakes of the nature of the philosophy of that 
nation or epoch; because it is a well-established histo- 
rical fact, and is in truth, nothing more than the exhi- 
bition, by a people, of the same bent of mind in litera- 
ture and philosophy* The common sense of the 
Baconian philosophy is manifested throughout every 
department of English literature. The characters in 
Shakspeare's plays are not mere personified qualities 
like the persons in an allegory: but are real men and 
women, such as we meet with in the world, actuated 
by the same diversity of motives and seeking the same 
objects. The particular passion sought to be delineated 
is individualised in some person, and the excellence of 
the delineation consists in the harmony between the 
passion though exhibited in all its ideal exaltation, and 
the character in which it is set forth. For example, 
jrf^rA^r o*>J a^arir.^ and jea'ousy and humor are not 



TH£ BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 43 

exhibited each in some metaphysical creature, which 
has no other passion than the one exemplified, but in 
real characters, which can sympathise with the circum- 
stances of real life, and are at times under the influ- 
ence of all the other passions of man, as their various 
situations call them forth. Murder is exhibited in 
Macbeth, avarice in Shylock, jealousy in Othello and 
humour in Falstaft* who are all men full of the common 
sympathies of humanity. This is the greatest triumph 
of the dramatic art, to invest the ideal with humanity. 
It is true that Shakspeare also created such characters 
as Calaban; but this was merely a wayward freak of 
his genius. And the same characteristic is exhibited 
in the writings of Milton. His fiends and angels are 
not metaphysical abstractions; but are men exalted into 
superhuman greatness. Though Satan does not appear 
"less than archangel ruined," still he appears like a 
wicked man of superhuman powers. And the angels 
appear such as we may imagine good men may become 
in a world where all their powers are exalted. This 
likening of spirits to men, we are well aware has been 
censured by some critics as a great impropriety, and 
the Mephistophiles of Goethe, which is a metaphysi- 
cal incarnation of sin, has been reckoned a finer delin- 
eation of the spirit of wickedness than the Satan of 
Milton. But this criticism, we apprehend, is founded 
in a misconception of the nature of the poetic art, 
whose province it is to seize upon practical criterions 
and not upon speculative — to deal with realities, and 
such things as can be made so much like realities, as 
to awaken the common sympathies of the human heart, 
and not with metaphysical abstractions — to be lik© 



44 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY;. 

Shakspeare, and not like Goethe, like Robert Burns, 
and not like Coleridge. But be this as it may, Milton 
has certainly taken a common sense view, and not a 
metaphysical one, of his great theme, and thereby 
showed the national trait of his mind. And Butler 
has taken a common sense view of human nature in 
his great poem. Hudibras, with all his ludicrous fa- 
naticism and solemn folly, is still a man; and so of 
every other character, And as to the poetry of Burns, 
it expresses more of natural feeling, such feeling as all 
men have, than that of any poet known to history^ and 
we cannot but consider it a favourable omen of sound 
taste, that his poems have lately been translated into 
German, though we must confess that his simple muse 
must cut rather an awkward figure in the coarse fabric 
of German diction. But it is useless to dwell upon 
this topic; for all the late writers upon the history of 
literature on the continent of Europe, have made special 
reference to the fact that English literature is pervad- 
ed by a vein of common sense. The English have 
even examined the evidences of Christianity according 
to the principles of the inductive method, or of common 
sense. Butler in his analogy, has drawn conclusions 
as to the truth of Christianity from the analogy which 
exists between it and the course of Providence as ex- 
hibited in nature; which is as strictly an inductive pro- 
cess, as any used in the investigation of natural philo- 
sophy. 

But there is a still graver charge brought against the 
Baconian philosophy. It is said to lead to materialism 
and atheism. DeMaistre, in his commentary on the 
philosophy of Bacon, says: "Every line of Bacon 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 45 

conducts to materialism: but in no part has he shown 
himself a more skilful sophist, a more refined, pro- 
found and dangerous hypocrite, that in what he has 
written on the soul." And Schlegel, in his history of 
literature, says: "The philosophy of sensation which 
was unconsciously bequeathed to the world by Bacon, 
and reduced to the shape of a regular system by Locke? 
first displayed in France, the true immorality and 
destructiveness of which it is the parent, and assumed 
the appearance of a perfect sect of atheism. '' In the 
second chapter of the second part of this discourse, it 
will be shown, that the Baconian philosophy recogni- 
ses the testimony of consciousness, as fully as it does 
that of sensation. If this be so, how can that philos- 
ophy lead to materialism? Consciousness tells us that 
the soul is not material; for we are certainly conscious 
that its attributes are not those of matter. Sensation 
informs us of the material world, consciousness informs 
us of the spiritual world, and we have no right, accor- 
ding to any rule of evidence or logic, to predicate in 
the way of philosophical affirmation, any idea deriv- 
ed from the material world, of the objects of the spirit- 
ual world; because the ideas of the qualities or attri- 
butes of spirit, we get from consciousness, and we can- 
not predicate of spirit, any quality but what is ascer- 
tained by consciousness; and neither can we predicate 
ofmatter, any quality but what is ascertained bysen- 
sation. We have no evidence therefore, that the soul 
is material; because the knowledge ol its nature is de- 
rived from a source, from which not one idea relative 
to matter is derived. The Baconian philosophy, there- 
fore, admits the same amount of evidence in favour of 



46 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHl?. 

the immateriality of the soul, that the most transcen* 
dental philosophy does; and therefore rests upon the 
same foundation in this particular. 

And so far from the Baconian philosophy being 
atheistical, Bacon has defined the boundaries, and 
pointed out the nature of the evidence upon which 
natural theology rests upon the principles of his phi- 
losophy, with admirable precision, as will be shown in 
the third part of this discourse. And no nation has 
cultivated natural theology with such assiduity and 
success, as the English. The more the Baconian phi- 
losophy has been cultivated, the more has natural the- 
ology advanced. It is in fact the boast of this philo- 
sophy, that it has revived the study of natural theolo- 
gy, after it had been abandoned and scouted by the 
philosophers of the continent of Europe, as an un* 
profitable study. "It gave a particular pleasure to 
Sir Isaac Newton," (says Maelaurin in his account of 
the writings of Newton,) "to see that his philosophy 
had contributed to promote an attention to final causes, 
as I have heard him observe, after Des Cartes and 
others had endeavoured to banish them." And where 
is the great work of Paley? the two first chapters of 
which approach as near to the certainty of mathemat- 
ical demonstration, as it is possible for moral reasoning 
to do. The evidences of natural theology pass through 
the achromatic mind of the author, without being dis- 
coloured by prejudice or passion, and paint upon his 
pages, their doctrines with all the life and precision of 
daguerreotype. And yet there never was a mind more 
thoroughly imbued by the philosophy of sensation, as 
Schlegel calls it, than Paiey's. And the Bridgewater 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 47 

treatises have brought all the discoveries of the Baco- 
nian philosophy to prove and illustrate natural theo- 
logy. And Bishop Butler even in his day, considered 
natural theology as so well established in English phi- 
losophy, that he assumed its truth as the foundation 
of his great work on the analogy between natural and 
revealed religion. So we see that in English philoso* 
phy, revelation, natural theology and physical science, 
are united in perfect harmony, proclaiming with one 
voice that there is a God. 

Such then is the character of the Baconian or En- 
glish philosophy: it embraces every thing that is sub- 
lime in speculation, useful in practice, lofty in moral- 
ity, beautiful in art, and reverential in religion. 

We now feel ourselves free to declare, that Bacon 
has done more to advance the progress of the human 
mind than any uninspired roan known to history. — 
There are no writings in the whole of literature, which 
take so profound a view of human nature, and point 
out so exalted a destiny for man, as his. With a phi- 
losophical forecast unparalleled in the world, he has 
given anticipations of someot the greatest discoveries 
of modern science. Even the law of gravity is con- 
jectured, and its application to the explication of the 
tides of the ocean is distinctly stated. And his phi- 
losophy possesses within itself the principle of perpet- 
ual progress; for, it is not like the ancient philoso- 
phies, confined to speculative principles, from which 
an explanation of all things is to be deduced, and aa 
these principles are in time found to be incapable of 
explaining the phenomena of nature, the ancient phi- 
losophies all sink into skepticism and become extinct, 



48 TIIE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

but it is commensurate with the phenomena of the uni- 
verse, as it deals with phenomena, and deduces its prin- 
ciples from them, and not them from its principles. — 
It is therefore, not like the ancient philosophies, a 
means of culture and progress for one people or epoch 
only, exhausting itself upon that people or epoch, but 
it is the means of culture and progress for all the na- 
tions and periods of the world. The nations whicli 
have been most under its influence have risen superior 
to all the rest of the human family, and have advanced 
progressively, and their speed is daily accelerated, to a 
degree of intellectual development, moral superiority, 
and political power, which seem to indicate that it is 
destined to form the type of the civilization of a grea- 
ter part, if not of all the human race. And that this 
progress is likely to be perpetual, is also indicated by 
the fact, that England, the nation which has most 
assiduously cultivated this philosophy stands at the 
head of modern civilization, and is not only the great 
progressive and regenerative nation of modern times, 
but is also eminently conservative, possessing in happy 
combination the elements of both progress and stability. 
She never loses sight of ancient landmarks in her pro* 
gressive movements. How often, for example, has 
she thrown her conservative influence over the trou- 
bled waters of European politics, even when the com- 
motion received its first impulse from the influence of 
her own principles of government! Scarcely has a 
quarter of a century elapsed, since she exerted all her 
power to rescue Cristendom from political and moral 
ruin, brought about by a revolution with which at first 
she sympathized strongly. And it seems,at this distance 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 49 

of time from the event, that if it had not been for her, 
all Europe would have retrograded in civilization. — 
During the awful storm of the French revolution, 
when almost every government of Europe lay a wreck 
upon the tremendous tossings of the political waters, 
a gleam of hope still broke across the scene, as the 
wise men of the earth turned towards England and 
saw, that freighted with the best interests of humanity, 
secure in her strength, she was riding out the storm. 
We have, therefore, strong reason to hope, that the 
Baconian philosophy sanctified by the spirit of Christi- 
anity, will pour its sanative floods over all the earth, 
and bring back all nations from the delirious wander- 
ings of the transcendental philosophy, to walk in the 
plain and sober paths of common sense. 
5 



PART THE SECOND. 

CHAPTER 1st. 



THE BACONIAN METHOD OF INVESTIGATION, 



The object of this chapter is to exhibit the method 
of investigation taught by Bacon in the Novum Organ- 
on. As the best mode of doing this, we will first sketch 
an outline of the logic taught by Aristotle in his Or- 
ganon, and show its nature and its province, and then 
sketch an outline of the method of investigation taught 
by Bacon in his Novum Organon, and show its nature 
and its province, and compare the two, and point out 
their differences. Let us then commence with an 
analysis of the reasoning process, as it is of this, that 
the Organon of Aristotle treats. 

We frequently observe in the best writers upon 
science, a vagueness and contradiction of expression 
in regard to the reasoning process, that evince the 
greatest looseness of opinion in regard to its nature. — 
We frequently meet with such expressions as "the 
inductive process of reasoning," "the true method of 
reasoning, which Bacon taught," "the erroneous method 
of syllogistic reasoning which Aristotle invented,'' and 
many other such expressions, which clearly indicate 
that the writers suppose, that there is more than one 
mode of reasoning. Nothing can be more erroneous 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 51 

than such a supposition. No matter what be the sub* 
ject upon which the mind is employed, whether in the 
spiritual or material world — whether in metaphysics, 
ethics, politics, mathematics, or in the different branches 
of natural philosophy, the reasoning process is always 
the same. The process is always from the known, or 
that which is assumed as known, to the unknown; 
and is always reducible to a syllogism. The syllogism 
is in fact the process of reasoning; for though every 
argument does not pass through the mind in the strict 
logical form of the syllogism, yet in every instance of 
reasoning, all the parts of a syllogism are contempla- 
ted by the mind. Some seem to entertain the notion, 
that the syllogism'is a peculiar kind ot reasoning — 
that it is not the natural process of the mind in rea- 
soning, but is an artificial mode invented by Aristotle. 
Let us test this notion, by analysing an argument 
presented in its common form. "The world exhibits 
marks of design, it therefore has an intelligent author.'' 
Now the process which takes place in the mind, in 
forming this argument, is the syllogism; as will be 
seen, if we attempt to refute the argument. Suppose 
we deny the truth of the argument, we must do it upon 
one of two grounds. Either upon the ground, that 
the world does not exhibit marks of design, or upon 
the ground, that even if it does, still it may not have 
an intelligent author. An objection upon either of 
these grounds is a full denial of the argument. What 
does this prove? Why, that the argument rests upon 
two assumptions. First, upon the assumption, that 
whatever exhibits marks of design has an intelligent 
author, and, secondly, that the world exhibits marks 



52 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY* 

of design. These two assumptions are evidently the 
premises from which the conclusion is deduced; for it 
either of them be false, the conclusion must be false, 
and if both of them be true, the conclusion must be 
true. As then both of these assumptions are abso- 
lutely essential to the truth of the conclusion, the mind 
must have contemplated them in coming to the conclu- 
sion; for otherwise it would not be warranted in form- 
ing any such conclusion. Indeed, it is impossible to 
form such a conclusion, without considering both of 
these assumptions; for they are the evidence upon 
which it rests. 

Now let us look back over what we have been doing, 
and we shall see that, in developing the argument, we 
have formed it into a complete syllogism. As devel- 
oped, it is thus: "Whatever exhibits marks of design 
has an intelligent author. The world exhibits marks 
of design. Therefore, it has an intelligent author.'* 
This is a complete syllogism. The first sentence is the 
major premiss; the second, the minor; and the third, 
is the conclusion. The minor premiss was expressed 
in the argument as we first stated it: but the major 
was not. When we denied the truth of the argument, 
we found, that in order to sustain it, we must adduce 
other evidence than was expressed; and the other 
evidence is the major premiss of the syllogism. The 
mind, then, must have contemplated this major premiss; 
else, it came to the conclusion upon insufficient evi- 
dence. In fact, the major premiss is implied in the 
minor; as it must always be: and therefore, the mind 
must of necessity have contemplated it. The argu- 
ment as we first stated it, is the form in which we 



THE BACOXIAN PHILOSOPHY. 53 

generally speak or write our arguments; for we never 
express all the evidence which pa'sses before the mind 
in argumentation, but use expressions which imply 
the truth of what is considered evident. When, there- 
fore, we wish to analyse and delineate the process 
which takes place in reasoning, we must consider 
every step of an argument — take hold of the attenua- 
ted clew, and pass along all the most winding and 
intricate passages of the mental labyrinth, and find 
out what is not usually expressed. If we do this with 
any argument whatever, and add to it all that is under- 
stood, it will then be a syllogism, or series of syllogisms. 
The very argument by which we have endeavoured to 
establish the point under consideration, may be formed 
into a series of syllogisms, by merely supplying what, 
is understood. 

As we have established the point, that every argu- 
ment, when stated in full and in logical order, is a 
syllogism, or a series of syllogisms, we will next ascer- 
tain what are the acts of the mind, w T hich take place 
in the syllogism, as we shall thus ascertain what are 
the. acts of the mind which take place in reasoning. 

The fundamental principles of the syllogism are; 
first, if two terms agree with one and the same third 
term, they agree with each other; secondly, if one 
term agrees and another disagrees with one and the 
same third term, these two disagree with each other. 
On the former of these principles, rests the validity of 
affirmative conclusions; on the latter, of negative. In 
the argument above, to prove that the world has an 
intelligent author, we found out a third term, with 
which both the subject and predicate of the propcsi* 



54 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

on agree, which third term is, "whatever exhibits 
narks of design." Because if both the subject and 
the predicate of the proposition agree with this third 
term, they agree with each other. We see, then, that 
in every affirmative syllogism there are three agree- 
ments. The major and minor terms agree with the 
middle term, and they therefore agree with each other. 
And that in every negative syllogism, there are two 
disagreements. Either the major or minor term agrees 
with the middle term, and the other disagrees with it, 
and they therefore disagree with each other. Now, 
how are agreements and disagreements ascertained? — 
Why, by comparison. The acts of the mind, there- 
fore, which take place in the syllogism, are a compari- 
son of two terms, with a third, and if they agree with 
it, then an inference that they agree with each others 
and if either of them agrees, and the other disagrees 
With the third term, then an inference that they disagree 
with each other. All reasoning, therefore, proceeds 
by comparison. We have exhibited this point, because 
we frequently meet with expressions, in the best wri- 
ters upon logic and metaphysics, and also in the wri- 
tings of all classes of authors, which imply that all 
reasoning is not by comparison: and also because we 
have seen some able writers running to the opposite 
extreme, and confounding the simple act of compari- 
son with the reasoning process, which as we have shown, 
consists of several acts of comparison, and an inference 
from them. 

We will now for the purpose of inquiring more mi- 
nutely into the nature of the reasoning process,take a syl- 
logism to pieces, and examine its parts, so as to ascertain 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 55 

their nature and their mntual relations to each other. 
The syllogism is composed of three propositions, 
two of which are the premises, and the other is the 
conclusion. For example, in the syllogism which we 
have been using all along, the proposition, "Whatever 
has marks of design has an intelligent author," is the 
major premiss; the proposition, "The world, exhib- 
its marks of design," is the minor premiss; and the 
proposition, "The world, therefore, has an intelligent 
author," is the conclusion. It is upon the mutual re- 
lations existing between these propositions, and upon 
the mutual relations existing between their respective 
parts, that all the rules of logic are founded. It is 
intuitively manifest, that both the minor premiss and 
the conclusion, are embraced in the major premiss, as 
parts of a whole. If the major and minor propositions 
be granted, the conclusion must necessarily follow: 
indeed the truth of the conclusion is assumed in them. 
When, therefore, we assert the truth of the major and 
minor premises, we virtually assert the truth of the 
conclusion also. We see, then, that in every argu- 
ment, the conclusion is contained or assumed in the 
premises, and that the conclusion is not a different 
truth from the premises, but is one of the truths con- 
tained or assumed in the major premiss, which is 
nothing more than a general truth, of which the con- 
clusion is a particular instance. When, therefore, we 
draw a conclusion, we do not, strictly speaking, ascer- 
tain a new truth, but merely develope in a particular 
instance, a general truth known to us before. The 
great general principle which governs these mutual 
relations existing between the premises and conclusion, 



56 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

is the fundamental principle of logic, and is called the 
"Dictum de omni et nullo" of Aristotle. It is this: 
"Whatever may be predicated (affirmed or denied) 
universally of any class, may be predicated (affirmed 
or denied) in like manner of any thing comprehended 
in that class." The application of this principle to 
the major premis?, as comprehending the minor and 
the conclusion* is obvious: for if it can be affirmed 
universally of the class of things exhibiting marks of 
design, that they have an intelligent author, it can 
necessarily be so affirmed of the world, if it be one of 
the things comprehended in that class. This maxim 
may be called the formula of demonstration, a general 
argument, of which every other is a particular instance. 
And the man who violates it in argumentation, is to 
the eye of enlightened reason guilty of as gross an 
absurdity as he who attempts to raise himself over a 
fence by the straps of his boots. 

We have now given an outline of the logic taught 
by Aristotle in his Organon: and will next introduce 
to our readers the Method of Investigation taught by 
Bacon in his Novum Organon. 

From the expressions quoted at the beginning of our 
analysis of the reasoning process, and from many such 
that are found in the best writers of every class, one 
might suppose that Lord Bacon had taught a new 
mode of reasoning: and that his Novum Organon was 
designed to supersede altogether the Organon of Aristo- 
tle. This is an entire misconception of the whole 
subject. The design of the Novum Organon was 
not to teach a new mode of reasoning; but to teach a 
new method of investigation. The Novum Organon 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 57 

has, therefore, a very different province from that of 
the Organon of Aristotle. The province of the latter 
is to analyse the process of the mind which takes 
place in reasoning: and to furnish a model to which 
sound reasoning may be reduced and by which the 
correctness of every argument may be tested, in its 
conformity to the model; and to furnish rules relative 
to the whole matter, as we have shown. 

But the Logic of Aristotle was supposed by its 
author and the other Greek philosophers to be an instru- 
ment of much more importance in the investigation of 
truth, than it really is, and was therefore applied to 
the investigation of the sciences, and is called the a 
priori method of investigation, and it is as a method 
of investigation, that the Novum Organon is designed 
to supersede the Organon of Aristotle, as we will now 
proceed to show. 

The Greeks were an astute and exceedingly dispu- 
tatious people, inordinately fond of dialectical disqui- 
sitions; and it was in this spirit, that the Greek philo- 
sophers conceived that the reasoning process was the 
chief process in the investigation ot the sciences, or 
in other words that, the a priori, was the true method 
of investigation. And it was at a period in the history 
of Greece when her philosophers were wholly given 
up to abstract studies, that Aristotle's Organon had its 
origin; and it may be considered as a systematical 
developement of the method of investigation pursued 
by the Greek philosophers, who carried the a priori 
method of investigation which had proved successful 
in mathematical inquiries to which it is adapted, into 
physical and metaphysical inquiries, supposing that as 



58 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

in the mathematics, so in physics and metaphysics? 
eyery thing can be reasoned out from a few simple 
notions or principles. And in accordance with this 
opinion the Greek philosophers were always endeav- 
ouring to find out these simple principles in nature, 
which they supposed would be productive of such rich 
results in science. In psychology, we find some main- 
taining the doctrine of innate general ideas or principles 
from which not only all metaphysical but all physical 
truths also were to be reasoned out; and in physics, we 
find one making water, another the infinitude of things, 
a third, air, and at last Aristotle, making form and 
privation combined with matter, the principles of all 
things: and though Aristotle did not maintain that 
these simple notions or principles were an innate 
knowledge of _ the mind, yet he seemed to think that 
they might be recognised affirmatively at the first 
glance of contemplatic/n of an instance furnished 
through sensation, and that therefore, the chief process 
in the acquisition of truth, is in deducing conclusions 
from principles, and not in ascertaining principles.-— 
And these miserable abstractions were the clews by 
which the Labyrinths of nature's secret places were 
to be passed through, and the truths of physics and 
metaphysics ascertained by reasoning from them. — 
This misapplication of logic as a method of investiga- 
tion could not but lead to error. For logic does not 
guaranty the truth of the premises of an argument, 
unless they are conclusions from previous arguments, 
but always proceeds upon the hypothetical truth of the 
premises. It merely guaranties the truth of the conclu- 
sion, as an inference from the premises; its' province, 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 59 

as we have shown, being to deduce conclusions from 
admitted premises. Its tendency,therefore, is to make 
us overlook the truth of the premises; as it furnishes 
no rule in regard to their truth 3 but merely in regard 
to the truth of the conclusion as an inference from 
them. And this is the very evil which it produced. 

This misapplication of logic as a method of investi- 
gation, led inevitably to the most absurd theories in 
physical science imaginable. As an example, we will 
cite Aristotle's argument in proof of the immutability 
and incorruptibility of the heavens, as it is exhibited 
by Galileo. 

"1st. Mutation is either generation or corruption. 
"2d. Generation and corruption only happen be- 
tween contraries. 
"3d. The motion of contraries is contrary. 
"4th. The celestial motions are circular. 
*'5th. Circular motions have no contraries. 
il Ji. Because there can be but three simple motions. 
"1st. To a centre. 
"2d. Round a centre. 
4 '3d. From a centre. $ 
tl B. Of three things, only one can be contrary to one. 
"G. But a motion to a centre is manifestly the con- 
trary to a motion from a centre, 
( D. Therefore, a motion round a centre (i. e. cir- 
cular motion) remains without a contrary. 
"6th. Therefore, celestial motions have no contra- 
ries; therefore, among celestial things there are 
no contraries; therefore, the heavens are eternal ? 
immutable, incorruptible, and so forth." 
Such is a striking example of both the method and 



60 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

the results of the ancient mode of philosophising. In 
it are exhibited a total disregard of facts and phenomena 
and a pompous and conceited affectation of system, 
which admirably illustrates the intellectual pride and 
vanity of the Greek philosophers, who paid no regard 
to their premises, as facts founded in nature; but vainly 
hoped to rear up a system of natural philosophy cor- 
responding with the indications of nature, merely by 
deducing conclusions from assumed premises not ascer- 
tained by observing nature, but purely the fictions of 
their own imaginations. And to just as gross absurdi- 
ties were the greek philosophers led in mental philo- 
sophy, by their disregard of facts and phenomena, as 
they were in physical. We will cite as an example, 
the doctrine of sensation, or the mode in which the 
mind perceives objects as taught in the Peripatetic 
school. A kind of images, or sensible species as they 
were called, were supposed to come off from all objects 
and to pass to our different organs of sense, and were 
by them admitted to the nerves, and through them 
conveyed to the brain, where they were impressed as 
the engraving of a seal on wax, and Were then refined 
into intellectual species, after the mind fully appre- 
hended them. We might cite many other examples 
of like absurdity: but our object is merely to illustrate 
the point under consideration. 

The logic and philosophy of Aristotle obtained the 
greatest favor at Rome under the Ca2sars. At an early 
period however, in the Christian world, Plato had dis- 
placed Aristotle, and continued the most generally 
received philosophy until the close of the fifth century 
when the influence of Aristotle began to prevail again, 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 61 

and though it declined a little during the sixth century 
at the close of the seventh, it was every where trium- 
phant throughout the civilized portions of Europe, 
Asia and Africa. Christians, Jews and Mahometans 
bowed before his authority. Commentaries, paraphra- 
ses, summaries and dissertations on his works were 
composed without number in both Arabic and Latin. 
His works were appealed to in all disputes as infalli- 
ble authority: and none dared dissent from the "Great 
Master.*? During this period, the study of" nature 
was still more neglected than it had been by the Greeks. 
Mere abstractions, figments of the mind, usurped the 
place of even the few facts contained in the Greek 
philosophy. Men's minds were in a continual ferment 
about occult qualities and essences — about proportion, 
degvee, infinity, formality, and innumerable other 
abstractions; and such w T as the height to which con- 
troversy ran about these chimeras of the mind, that it 
often resulted in bloodshed, and well nigh convulsed 
kingdoms. Every one seemed to think that, "the chief 
end of man, is to contradict his neighbour, and to 
wrangle with him forever." The different parties had 
their rival chiefs decked out in all the titles of phi- 
losophical heraldry, such, as "the invincible," "the 
most profound," the "angelical," the ''irrefragible doc- 
tor, 5 ' to lead them on to the wordy war. And now the 
most absurd notions were worked up into systems of 
philosophy. As the great master Aristotle had taught 
as we have shown, that a uniform circular motion was 
the only motion consistent with the perfection of the 
heavenly mechanism, this notion was worked up into* 
a most unwieldy and complicated theory of astronomy, 
6 



62 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

exhibiting the sun, moon and planets revolving in cir- 
cles, whose centres were carried round in other circles, 
and these again in others,and so on without end — "cycle 
upon epicycle, orb on orb," throughout the infinitude of 
space. But a still more absurd astronomical theory 
was gravely presented to the world in the sixth cen* 
tury by Cosmas Indopleustes, who maintained, says 
Maclaurin in his account of Sir Isaac Newton's phi- 
losophical discoveries, that "the earth was not globu- 
lar but an immense plane of a greater length than 
breadth, environed by an unpassable ocean. He placed 
a huge mountain towards the north, around which the 
sun and stars performed their diurnal revolutions; and 
from the conical shape which he ascribed to it, with 
the oblique motion of the sun, he accounted for the 
inequality of the days and the variation of the sea- 
sons. The vault of Heaven leaned upon the earth ex- 
tended beyond the ocean, being likewise supported by 
two vast columns: beneath the arch, angels conducted 
the stars in their various motions. Above it were the 
celestial waters, and above all he placed the supreme 
heavens." Such then was the state of knowledge 
produced by implicity obeying authority, and following 
the ancient method of philosophising, of endeavouring 
to deduce systems of philosophy from a few imaginary 
principles — of misapplying logic as a method of investi- 
gation. 

It was during this state of knowledge, though light 
had begun to break in upon the darkness.that Lord Ba- 
con was born. While yet a student at Trinity College, 
Cambridge, he discerned the vagueness and inutility of 
the existing state of knowledge; and as he advanced in 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 63 

age, he saw the more clearly the utter worthlessness of 
all the reigning speculations of the day; for, there being 
no connection whatever between them and the arts,they 
did not minister at all to the comforts of man, or arm 
him with any power over nature. As this great genius 
meditated upon the immense growth of pernicious 
error which had sprung up in every province of knowl- 
edge, he plainly saw, that it was in a great measure 
the product of the extensive influence which Aristotle 
possessed in the schools, diverting the minds of men 
from the study of nature to the study of his doctrines; 
and that the authority of Aristotle must be overthrown, 
before man could be brought back into the true paths 
of science. For although the discoveries of Coperni- 
cus, Kepler and Galileo had in some degree broken 
the magic spell of the enchanter of Stagira, it remained 
for a genius of a loftier tone to show its delusion and 
folly by pointing out its nature; and to rouse up the 
minds of men from slavish obedience to authority, by 
pouring into them the quickening influences of his 
own free spirit. All this Bacon designed to accom- 
plish by his Instauration of the Sciences; and to lead 
men back into the true paths of science, from which 
they had so long wandered. 

The Instauration of the Sciences, was designed by 
Bacon to consist of six parts: but as he wrote but little 
ot the third, fourth, fifth and sixth parts, we will say 
nothing of them. The first part is the Advancement 
of Learning, in which he sketches out alljhe depart- 
ments of knowledge and defines their limits; and shows 
the degree of cultivation in each. In concluding this 
part of his great work, he says, "thus have I made, as 



64 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY, 



it were, a small globe of the intellectual world as truly, 
and faithfully as I could discover, with a note and 
description of those parts, which seem to me not 
constantly occupate or well converted by the labour of 
man.' ; 

" The second part of the Installation of the Sciences, 
is the Novum Organon, which it is our object now -to 
illustrate. As, in the Advancement of Learning, Ba- 
con sketched a map of the sciences; in the Novum 
Organon, he develops the method by which they are 
to be investigated. He here proclaims the great truth', 
and develops it, that the knowledge of the philosopher 
does not differ in kind but only in degree, from that of 
the peasant— that the whole of philosophy is founded 

. on observation, and is nothing more than a classifica- 
tion of facts and phenomena presented in nature, rising 
first, from particulars, to classifications of the lowest 
degree of comprehension , and then from these, to those 
of a higher degree, and so on, until we arrive at classi- 
fications of the highest degree comprehending all the 
subordinate classifications. And that these classifica- 
tions are the only true general conceptions; as they 
are the only ones which have any thing corresponding 
to them in nature; and that the ideas or forms of Plato- 
and the empirical general conceptions of Aristotle 
have no counterparts in nature, but are the mere fic- 
tions of their own imaginations, and therefore are not 
a proper foundation of science. In a word, he declared 
that all philosophy is written in the book of nature, the 
material and spiritual worlds. He set forth this great 
truth in the very first proposition of the Novum Or- 

\ ganon.* "Man as the servant and interpreter of nature, 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 65 

does and understands as much as his observations on 
the order of nature, either with regard to things or 
the mind, permit him, and neither knows, nor is capa- 
ble of more." The spirit of this philosophy is humili- 
ty. It teaches that in order to become philosophers 
truly so called, men must cast off that intellectual 
pride which vainly strives to find out the secrets of 
nature by mere reasoning, and become as children, 
reading in humility the simplest lessons in the book of 
nature. "The access to the kingdom of man which 
is founded on the sciences," says Bacon, "resembles 
that to the kingdom of Heaven, where no admission 
is conceded except to children.' 5 Noble and sagacious 
comparison ! With what philosophic forecast does it 
portray the spirit of true philosophy ! For as those 
who recognise the doctrine of humility in divine truth, 
have planted, upon the strongest fortresses of pagan- 
ism, the white banner of Christianity, with the lonely 
star of Bethlehem shedding its mild beams from its am- 
ple folds as it waves over the worshippers of the true 
God, so those who recognise it in human truth, have 
pushed their conquests into every province of nature, 
and even scaled the very Heavens, and planted the 
standard of the Baconian philosophy upon the remo- 
test star, demonstrating by their success that the hum- 
bling precept, "become as little children," is as true 
in philosophy as in religion. It is obedience to this 
precept which confers on man all his power over na- 
ture — gives him access to the kingdom founded on the 
sciences. 

The method of investigation, according to this view 
of philosophy, proposed by Bacon in his Novum Or* 
<?* 



66 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

ganon, he calls Induction, which means "a bringing 
in; v because it proposes to bring into philosophical 
investigations facts diligently sought out in nature, 
and after carefully examining them in all possible lights, 
to educe some general principle from them which they 
clearly indicate. The developement of this method, 
by showing its nature and efficiency, and exposing the 
sources of error in philosophical investigations and lay- 
ing down precepts for conducting them right, so as to 
enable the humble and sincere inquirer to guard against 
error, constitute the Novum Organon. Such then is 
the remedy which Bacon proposed for rectifying the 
evils of the ancient philosophy; and for enabling man 
to establish a true practical philosophy that would 
extend his empire over all the dominions of nature. — 
He sketched a chart to guide the humble voyager on 
the vast ocean of knowledge; and erected beacons to 
warn him where his barque might be stranded. 

It is evident from this view of the subject that the 
Novum Organon, was not designed to teach a new 
mode of reasoning; and thus to supersede the Organon 
of Aristotle in its legitimate province of analysing the 
process of reasoning, and exhibiting rules for conduct- 
ing it aright: but merely to supersede it as an instru- 
ment of investigation in the sciences, to which it had 
been misapplied both by its author and his followers, 
especially those of modern times. The Novum Or- 
ganon is not in fact a treatise on logic at all: but rather 
a treatise on evidence; for it treats more particularly 
of premises, than of conclusions; and the premises are 
the evidence, which prove the conclusion of an argu- 
ment; for when we set out with a conclusion which is 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 67 

then called a proposition, the evidence which we 
adduce to prove it would constitute the premises, if 
we set out with the premises, in order to deduce the 
conclusion from them. Lord Bacon, after surveying 
the whole of ancient philosophy, saw that it was not 
sustained by legitimate evidence — that the premises 
(so. to speak) of the arguments were either plainly 
false, or mere assumptions not proved; and he propo- 
sed in his Novum Organon, that men should examine 
facts and phenomena (the only legitimate evidence,) 
before they form theories — interpiet nature and have 
legitimate premises, before they deduce conclusion?. 
He did not design to show that their conclusions were 
not logically deduced from their premises, or that the 
syllogistic rules laid down by Aristotle for conducting 
this process were erroneous. 

But if Bacon did design to teach a new mode of 
reasoning, he has signally failed of his purpose; for we 
have shown that the syllogism is the process which 
must take place in all correct reasoning; and we will 
jnow proceed to show that Induction is a very different 
process, and not a process of reasoning at all. What 
is Induction? It may be defined, a process of investi- 
gation and of collecting facts and phenomena, either 
with or without a view, to establish some general 
principle already suggested to the mind. It is mani- 
fest that the mere investigation and collection of 
facts and phenomena without a view to establish some 
general principle already suggested to the mind, is not 
a reasoning process. It therefore, only remains to 
examine the other, the investigation and collection ot 
facts and phenomena with a view to establish some 



68 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

general principle already suggested to the mind. In 
this last case, the investigation and collection of facts 
and phenomena, is conducted on the supposition or 
presumption of the existence of a general principle or 
law; and is directed with a view to establish it, by the 
examination of a sufficient number of facts and phe- 
nomena. For example: — A naturalist, after seeing for 
the first time, a duck or any other water-fowl, might 
be led to infer that all water-fowl have web-feet; and 
might therefore proceed to search for other water-fowl, 
until he found the goose, the pelican, the swan, &c: 
and wou'd then be convinced of the truth of the gen- 
eral principle, that all water-fowl have web-feet. — 
Now, this is certainly not a process of reasoning; for 
it is conducted upon the supposition or presumption 
merely, of the existence of the law or general princi- 
ple, and not upon the absolute certainty of its existence; 
for it would then not be investigation, but demonstration 
or reasoning from known premises, to something taken 
for granted in those premises, as we have shown rea- 
soning always to be. The inductive process is not 
governed by principles of logic, but by principles of 
evidence. For instance: — -In the example above, the 
naturalist supposed from the fact, that one water-fowl, 
the duck, has web-feet, that all water- fowl have web- 
feet. Now, this is evidently a mere supposition from 
testimony not sufficient to convince the naturalist; he 
therefore searches for other water-fowl (other testimo- 
ny) and finds the goose, the pelican, the swan, &c. and 
is convinced by this accumulated testimony of the 
general principle that all water-fowl have web-feet. — 
The mental determination is effected by testimony, 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. G9 

and not. by rules of logic. The conclusion is not 
implied in the very conception of the premises, as is 
always the case in reasoning; but it is warranted by 
the probabilities founded in the analogies of nature 
and in the constitution of the human mind. The 
inference is founded upon material relations, and not 
upon logical. The conclusion is probable; but not ne- 
cessarily certain, as is always the case in. logic; for logic 
never proves with any but the highest- degree of cer- 
tainty, the inference being never deduced from proba- 
bilities, but necessitated by the very laws of thought. 
The relation between the premises of an argument 
and the conclusion, is that of reason and consequent; 
and the material relations of the objects expressed by 
the terms have nothing to do with the inference of the 
one from the others; for in reasoning, the inference is 
effected, i'i termini et rationis, and not vi materiae. — 
And-reasoning always proceeds from a class to a parti- 
cular, or from a class of greater comprehension, to one 
of less; and every class is established by induction: to 
make a class then, -a prerequisite of induction, as we 
must do, if we make induction, reasoning, would be 
absurd; for every induction would then be the result 
of some previous induction, in infinitum; and it would 
make .our highest abstractions or generalisations, the 
first in order of time in the acquisition of knowledge, 
which is a psychological doctrine that is repudiated by 
the whole Baconian philosophy; as will be seen in the 
next chapter, 

It is manifest, we think, from this analysis, that 
induction is the reverse of the syllogism. Induction 
proceeds from particulars to a class of low degree, and 



70 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

from several classes of a low degree to those of a higher, 
until we arrive at those of the highest degree. On 
the contrary, syllogism proceeds from classes of the 
highest degree to those of a lower, and from those of 
the lowest degree to particulars. The two together 
constitute one complete system of processes by which 
knowledge is acquired and perfected. For very often 
we cannot be satisfied that we have arrived at a correct 
inductive conclusion or statement of a law of nature, un- 
til we make such conclusions or law a ground of argu « 
ment, and show by strict reasoning that the phenomena 
observed are consequences of it. For example: in rea- 
soning from the law of gravity, we discover, by the ap- 
plication of the general laws of dynamics, that all the 
planets must attract each other,and therefore draw each 
other out of the orbits in which they would have moved, 
if acted upon by the sun only; and thus circumstances 
are discovered by which our general conclusion is 
strengthened, and which could not have been discov- 
ered otherwise, as it required some such conclusion 
which could only be obtained by strict reasoning, to 
direct attention to such minute inquiries; and a correct 
theory is thus obtained. This use of reasoning in 
inductive inquiries will be more particularly explained 
in the sequel, when we speak of the application of 
mathematics to physical inquiries. 

In further illustration of the nature of induction, we 
will now inquire into the nature of the methods of 
analysis and synthesis. 

We frequently see analysis called the inductive 
process, and synthesis called the hypothetical process, 
the process of the ancients. This is very erroneous. 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 71 

Synthesis is just as much of an inductive process as 
analysis; and is, in fact, more extensively used by the 
Baconian philosophers than analysis. Analysis and 
synthesis are terms derived from the ancient Greek 
geometricians; and aie of quite a different nature in 
the mathematics from what they are in the other sci- 
ences. In mathematics synthesis is just the reverse 
of analysis; but it is not so in the sciences of£contingent 
truth. In these, analysis is the process of investiga- 
tion by observation and experiment; and synthesis is 
the process of explaining other phenomena by means 
ot the general fact or law ascertained by analysis. — ■ 
Synthesis is just as much of a process of investigation 
as analysis; and is more frequently used as such. For 
we are frequently led to an inference analytically, 
without our induction of facts being sufficiently exten- 
sive to satisfy us; we therefore bring to our aid syn- 
thetically facts which we had not before examined. — 
At the time we are explaining facts synthetically we 
are establishing the inference which we derived analy- 
tically, because if the inference will explain the facts, 
the facts will, of course, support the inference. Ana- 
lysis and synthesis are, therefore, both processes of in- 
duction; for by both of them we enlarge the number 
of our facts. Indeed, most of the discoveries in the 
inductive philosophy have been made chiefly by syn- 
thesis. The phenomenon of the rainbow was ex- 
plained by it. Sir [saac Newton, by experiment with 
the prysmatic spectrum, discovered that light is com- 
posed of seven rays, of different colours, and of dif- 
ferent degrees of refrangibility. By this fact, thus 
analytically established, he explained the phenomenon 



72 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

of the rainbow synthetically; and the phenomenon thus 
explained, establishes the fact that light is composed 
of seven rays of different colours and different degrees 
of refrangibility. The phenomenon of the rainbow 
could never have been explained analytically. We 
might have looked at it forever, and would still be un- 
able to explain its cause from mere observation, no mat- 
ter how minute. The science of astronomy has been 
reared chiefly by synthesis. Newton, from an exami- 
nation of the phenomena of motion on the earth, in- 
ferred the principle of gravity, and by the principle of 
gravity thus analytically ascertained, he explained 
synthetically the phenomena of the whole solar system. 
It would have been impossible ever to have explained 
these phenomena by analysis. In the preface to hi$< 
Principia, Newton says; "All the difficulty of philo- 
sophy seems to consist in this; from the phenomena of 
motions, to investigate the forces of nature, and then 
from these forces to demonstrate the other phenomena; 
and to this end the general propositions in the first and 
second books are directed. In the third book, we give 
an example of this, in explanation of the system of the 
world; for, by the propositions, mathematically demon- 
strated, in the first book, we then derive from the ce- 
lestial phenomena the forces of gravity, with which 
bodies tend to the sun and the several planets. Then, 
from these forces, by other propositions, which are also 
mathematical, we deduce the motions of the planets, 
the comets, the moon, and the sea." Now, this is an 
outline of the method of investigation persued in the 
principia, given by Newton himself; and we see that 
synthesis is much more extensively used than an.ilysis. 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 



73 



Analysis was employed in the first step of the investi- 
gation — "from the phenomena of motions to investi- 
gate the forces of nature." The demonstration of the 
other phenomena from these forces is by synthesis, and 
constitutes the great portion of the immortal work. — 
The copy of the Principia which we have before us 
was edited by that distinguished mathematician Roger 
Cotes. In his preface to the work, in speaking of 
those who profess experimental philosophy, he says: 
"They therefore proceed in a twofold method, syntheti- 
cal and analytical. From select phenomena they 
deduce, by analysis, the forces of nature, and the more 
simple laws of forces; and from thence, by synthesis, 
show the constitution of the rest. This is that incom- 
parably best way of philosophising which our renowned 
author most justly embraced before the rest, and 
thought alone worthy to be cultivated and adorned by 
his excellent labours. Of this he has given us a most 
illustrious example by the explication of the system of 
the world, most happily deduced from the theory of 
gravity." We might adduce innumerable other ex- 
amples; indeed, we might bring forward the whole of 
science in illustration of our position, but we have suffi- 
ciently exemplified it; for, after showing that the great- 
est monument of which the inductive philosophy can 
boast was reared chiefly by synthesis — that much the 
largest induction of facts was made by this process, it 
is unnecessary to dwell longer on examples. Perhaps 
it may be objected to this last example that we are 
confounding,by citing it, the distinction which we have 
made between synthesis and analysis in the mathema- 
tics and the sciences of contingent truth. A little 
7 



74 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

reflection will remove this objection. The applica- 
tion of mathematics to the sciences of contingent truth, 
does not take them out of the pale of induction; be- 
cause the whole object of such application is to explain 
the phenomena, by comparing the results of the de- 
monstrations from the assumed data with observed facts, 
and thereby ascertaining from the agreement or disa* 
greement of the results of the demonstrations with 
observed facts, whether the data or principle inferred 
by analysis, upon which the demonstrations are based, 
be true or false. An appeal must be made to experi- 
ence, in every particular instance of the application 
of mathematics to natural philosophy, to see whether 
the results of the demonstration correspond with ob- 
served phenomena, no matter how well established the 
general principles of the particular science may be 
considered; for it is in this way only that mathematics 
gives certainty to theories in natural philosophy, or in 
other words, strengthens our inductive conclusions; 
because until we ascertain that such phenomena do 
exist as the demonstrations show to be necessary conse- 
quences of the assumed principle, we cannot be sure 
of the truth of the principle. For example: when 
demonstration showed that if the principle of gravity 
be true, there must exist certain inequalities and devi- 
ations in the motions of the planets, produced by their 
mutual action upon each other, drawing each other out 
of the orbits they would have moved in if acted upon 
only by the sun, we could not be certain of the truth 
of the principle of gravity until we ascertained that 
these phenomena did really exist; and then the princi- 
ple would explain the phenomena, and the phenomena 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 



75 



support the principle. Both the analytical and syn- 
thetical processes of induction then, are aided by the 
application of mathematics. Though, in testing the 
truth of the conclusion or principle arrived at by the 
analytical process of induction by applying mathema- 
tics to it, you must assume the truth of the conclusion 
or principle, and then deduce from it, the phenomena 
from which the conclusion has been inferred. And 
thus it is apparent, that the analytical process is aided 
by the application of mathematics, in the very same 
way that the synthetical process is: for in applying the 
mathematics to aid the synthetical process, you must 
assume the truth of the conclusion or principle arrived 
at by analysis, and deduce from it, the phenomena 
which you are seeking to explain by that conclusion 
or principle, and in this way prove the analytical con- 
clusion by these phenomena thus synthetically explain- 
ed, and show that they belong to the same class with 
those from which the analytical conclusion was infer- 
red. • And both processes will thus result, in proving 
the general principle inferred in the analytical process. 
This application of mathematics in aid of the inductive 
process is spoken of by Bacon in the ninety six apho- 
rism of the second book of the Novum Organon, 
where he says "that mathematics ought rather to ter- 
minate natural philosophy than to generate or create it." 
Let it not, then, be said that analysis is the induc- 
tire process, and synthesis the ancient. They are not 
processes of reasoning; for they both are conducted on 
the supposition or presumption merely of the exis- 
tence of a law or general principle, and are directed 
with a view to establish it, by the examination of a 



76 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

sufficient number of facts; and not on the absolute 
certainty of the existence of the law or principle, 
which is the case in reasoning. They are the proces- 
ses by which we acquire all our knowledge of philo- 
sophy; and the two together constitute what is meant 
by induction in its largest sense. For example: some- 
thing suggests a general principle or law; we then try 
whether it is sustained by other facts, or, which is the 
same thing, whether it will explain other phenomena 
of the same kind. The first step is analytical, the 
last synthetical; and the whole is induction; and the 
whole series of inductions by which the sciences have 
been reared, were oi this nature — conclusions from a 
few instances proved by trial upon many; and while 
we have been explaining the nature of analysis and 
synthesis, we have been explaining the nature of in- 
duction. This view of induction is taken by Bacon 
himself in the 103 aphorism of the first book of the 
Novum Organon. Speaking of the mere examination 
ot particulars, he says, "comparatively insignificant 
results are to be expected from thence, whilst the more 
important are to be derived from the new light of ax- 
ioms, deduced by certain method and rule from the 
above particulars,' and pointing out and defining new 
particulars in their turn. Our road is not along a plain, 
but rises and falls, ascending to axioms, and descend- 
ing to effects." It is obvious, that the terms ascending 
and descending describe what are now called the ana- 
lytical and synthetical processes; and it would perhaps 
be better, if the terms analysis and synthesis were 
banished from the sciences of contingent truth, and the 
terms ascending induction, and descending induction 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 77 

substituted for them, in accordance with the phraseol- 
ogy of Bacon; because there is not the same difference 
between the terms analysis and synthesis in the sci- 
ences of contingent truth, that there is between them 
in the mathematics, and the retention of them is there- 
fore calculated to mislead. As methods of instruction 
in what is already known, they are the reverse of each 
other; and so they would be as methods of investiga- 
tion in all the branches of natural philosophy to which 
mathematics can be applied, if all the phenomena were 
known, and the mathematics were perfect, so as to 
render these branches of natural philosophy as much 
a matter of strict reasoning as geometry. 

As we have shown that induction is carried on, by 
principles of evidence and not by principles of logic, 
we will offer some reflections upon philosophical evi- 
dence; and develop induction further than Bacon did, 
and give it a more systematic form. 

We frequently see Analogy spoken of in the best 
writers as a fallacious sort of evidence, that ought not 
to be admitted into the inductive philosophy . This is 
very erroneous; for analogy is true inductive evidence. 
What we mean by inductive evidence, is evidence 
founded in the constitution of nature — real evidence, 
as opposed to mere hypothesis. And what we mean 
by evidence, is whatever is clothed by nature with 
the power of producing conviction in our minds, when 
it is fully apprehended, even in spite of ourselves. — 
As to the first point, that analogy has a real founda- 
tion in nature, no one can object; for we can trace it 
every where. And as to the other point, whether it 
is clothed by nature with power to produce con^ie* 
7* 



78 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

tion in our minds solid enough to be the foundation of 
sound inductive inferences, we think there will be as 
little objection, after diligent inquiry into the matter. 
The conviction produced by analogy between facts or 
phenomena, has the very same foundation that the 
conviction of the existence of the most familiar object 
has. They are both founded in our mental constitu- 
tion, on what is called by metaphysicians, fundamen- 
tal laws of belief. If we see an object we cannot 
but believe in its existence: so if we perceive an analo- 
gy between phenomena, we cannot but believe that 
they are produced by a similar or common cause.— 
But why the conviction is produced in either case, is 
not known to us, and never can be in this state of exis- 
tence. It is beyond the boundaries of philosophy. — 
Having laid this foundation, we will now proceed to 
show the importance of analogical evidence, and also 
to exhibit its nature, and finally, to indicate the general 
principle by which our estimate of its force is to be 
regulated. 

There is no science whatever in which analogical 
evidence is not of great importance. In medicine, a 
remedy is frequently suggested in one disease, from 
its having been efficacious in an analogous disease. — 
In anatomy also, it is of much importance. One of 
the noblest monuments of human reason is the osteolo- 
gy of Baron Couvier; and this has been reared almost 
exclusively upon analogy. In moral science also, it 
has its monuments. The ablest defence of Christianity 
that has ever been submitted to the world, is founded 
altogether upon analogy. We mean the- work of 
Bishop Butler — a work that has done more to make 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 79 

plain the ways of providence in the moral economy 
of the world, than almost any other human produc- 
tion. This work alone is sufficient to entitle analogy 
to the character of admissible evidence in philosophy; 
tor if it be admissible in one science, it must be admis- 
sible in all, as it must have the same relative strength 
in all. But we will not confine ourselves to general 
propositions: but will select instances in which analo- 
gical evidence has been the foundation of discoveries 
in natural philosophy, as the best mode of enforcing 
our views. 

The conjecture of Newton that the diamond is a 
combustible body, which has been always thought to 
evince such marvellous sagacity, was founded upon 
the analogy of its effects upon light, to those of other 
combustible substances. Kepler having ascertained 
the orbit of Mars about the sun to be an ellipse, hav- 
ing the sun in one of its foci, the same law was imme- 
diately extended by analogy to all the planets; and was 
found in time to hold good in the case of each: and 
when Jupiter's disc and satellites were afterwards dis- 
covered by Galileo, the same law was immediately 
extended by analogy, to this miniature system, and 
found to hold good: and the law was thus found to 
depend on the nature of planetary motion. All Gf 
which has since been mathematically demonstrated by 
Newton. Here, then, are conclusions from analogy 
in reference to the most difficult subjects, demonstrated 
to be correct by the most rigid application of mathe- 
matics; and the conjecture of Newton about the nature 
'of the diamond, has been proved to be correct by 
modern chemisty. But perhaps the most beautiful 



WJ THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

instance of the use of analogical evidence, within the 
whole range of natural science, is to be found in the 
theory of dew by Dr. Wells. It is selected by Sir J. 
W. F. Herschel, "as one of the most beautiful speci- 
mens of inductive experimental inquiry.*' And as 
he has selected it as an example of inductive search 
without regard to the kind of evidence on which it 
rest?, we will select it as an example of inductive 
search conducted upon analogical evidence, and will 
give it in the words of Herschel: "Let ns now exem- 
plify this inductive search for a cause, by one general 
example: suppose dew were the phenomenon proposed, 
whose cause we would know. In the first place, we 
must separate dew from rain and the moisture of fogs, 
and limit the application of the term to what is really 
meant, which is, the spontaneous appearance of mois** 
ture on substances exposed in the open air, when no 
rain or visible wet is falling. Now here we have ana« 
iogous phenomena in the moisture which bedews a 
cold metal or stone, when we breathe upon it; that 
which appears on a glass of water fresh from the well 
in warm weather; that which appears on the inside of 
windows, when sudden rain or hail chills the external 
air; that which runs down our walls, when, after a long 
frost, a warm moist thaw comes on: all these instances 
agree in one point, the coldness of the object dewed, 
in comparison with the air in contact with it. But in 
the case of the night dew, is this a real cause? — is it a 
fact that the object dewed, is colder than the air?*~- 
Certainly not, one would at first be inclined to say; for 
what is to make it so? But the analogies are cogent 
and unanimous; and therefore we are not to discard 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 81 

their indications; and besides, the experiment is easy; 
we have only to lay a thermometer in contact with the 
dewed substance,and hang one at a little distance above 
it, out of reach of its influence. The experiment has 
therefore beenmade^ the question has been asked, and 
the answer has invariably been in the afnmative. — 
Whenever an object contracts dew, it is colder than 
the air, &c. n We here see inferences founded on 
analogy, proved by actual experiment. If the example 
had been written with a view to the object for which 
we have selected it, the language could not have been 
more expressive of our doctrine; could not point out 
the analogies more distinctly. This fact gives great 
force to it, as an illustration of the use of analogical 
evidence in philosophical inquiries. But why need 
we dwell on minor examples, when in fact, it was ana- 
logical evidence which led Newton to break through 
the fetters of thedogma,of the ancients,that the celesti- 
al phenomena are in their nature and laws different from 
the terrestrial, and to connect the physics of the earth 
with that of the heavens,and to identify their laws. He 
discovered an analogy between the motions of a bomb 
shot from a cannon and the motions of the moon, and 
was thus led to infer that their motions were produced 
by the same cause, and regulated by the same laws; 
and from the analogy between the earth and the other 
planets, he concluded that the motions of their satel- 
lites were produced by tfce same cause that those of 
the moon were; and, finally, the analogy between the 
motions of the earth and of the other planets around 
the sun, and the motions of the moon around the earth, 
led him to infer that their motions were produced by 



82 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

the same cause; and the application of geometry ena- 
bled him. to verify these inferences. Thus we see, 
then, that it was by an induction founded upon analo- 
gies, that the law of gravity was established. 

It is very important, then, as these examples show, 
to have a number of analogous instances, which class 
themselves with the one under consideration; because 
the explanation of one of them will be apt to lead to 
that of all the others. We may also perceive analo- 
gies between different sciences, and trace them until 
they terminate in some common phenomenon, more 
general than that which is the subject of either of 
them, and thus arrive at their common cause. This 
has been the case with electricity, magnetism and gal- 
vanism, for they have been discovered to be the same, 
or rather, the two last are particular instances of the 
first, by examining their analogies; and it is very pro* 
bable from the strong analogies existing between the 
phenomena of light and sound, that they will at last 
be discovered to originate in a common cause, vibratory 
motion. 

But we need not dwell longer on particular exam- 
ples; for the truth is, all the evidence on which the 
inductive process is conducted, may be divided into 
analogy and identity, though of course, subordinate 
divisions may be made of these. As long as the sub- 
ject of investigation is merely probable, no matter how 
great the probability, the process is founded on analogy. 
For example:- — in the case of the theory of dew, which 
we cited, the whole process was founded upon analo- 
gy, until it was ascertained by experiment with the 
thermometer, that cold was the cause. And so in every 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 83 

other science, we must proceed upon analogous instan- 
ces, until we arrive at a common cause: and it has been 
done in every science from astronomy to chemistry. — 
By analogy, the philosopher can push his enquiries to 
the utmost verge of reasonable supposition. For ex- 
ample: we can with great probability infer that those 
stars, which have disappeared from the firmament 
have been consumed by fire, from the analogy of the 
appearances exhibited by them to a great conflagration. 
The stars at first appeared of a dazzling white, then 
of a reddish yellow, and lastly of an ashy paleness 
until their light expired. "As to those stars" says La 
Place ''which suddenly shine forth with a very vivid 
light, and then immediately disappear, it is extremely 
probable, that great conflagrations produced by extra- 
ordinary causes take place on their surface. This con- 
jecture is confirmed by their change of colour, which 
is analogous to that presented to us on the earth, by 
those bodies, which are set on fire, and then gradually 
extinguished." The analogies, are the harmony of the 
universe— the real music of the spheres. 

Philosophical analogy is frequently confounded by 
logicians as well as by the general writer, with rhetor- 
ical analogy: but they are quite different. Philosophi- 
cal analogy consists in any resemblance between phe- 
nomena, less than identity; as in all the examples which 
we have given. But analogy in rhetoric is a mere 
fanciful resemblance discovered by the imagination; 
and is used for mere illustration or ornament. For 
example: "the angry ocean, the howling winds." — 
Here, the stormy state of the ocean is likened to the 
anger of man; and the noise of the winds, to the howl- 



84 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

ing of a beast. Now man is naturally angry; but the 
ocean is only metaphorically so; and the beast natural- 
ly howls, but the winds, only metaphorically. The 
first is founded in nature, the latter, in fancy. So in 
Shakspeare's beautiful description of concealed love — 

"She never told her love, 
But let concealment, like a worm in the bud, 
Feed on her damask cheek." 

That the worm feeds on the bud, is a fact in nature, 
that concealed love feeds on the cheek, is a fact in 
fancy. So in Bacon, — "But if it (the mind of man) 
work upon itself, as the spider worketh his web, then 
it is endless, and brings forth indeed cobwebs of learn- 
ing admirable for the firmness of thread and work, but 
of no substance or profit." That the spider makes a 
web is a fact founded in nature; that the mind of man 
makes one is a fact in fancy. In these examples it is 
easy to discern that the analogy is purely rhetorical; 
and it is used merely for illustration and ornament: 
but there are innumerable instances in the best wri- 
ters where rhetorical analogy is used as the foundation 
of inductive inference, thus confounding it with philo- 
sophical analogy. In these examples, it is easy to dis- 
cern, that the analogy is purely rhetorical, and is 
used merely for illustration and ornament. But 
there are innumerable instances in the best writers 
where rhetorical analogy is used as the foundation of 
inductive inference. For example Dr. Johnson in 
one of his reported conversations, talking of the want 
of memory, said, "No Sir, it is not true: in general 
every person has an equal capacity for reminiscence, 
and for one thing as well as another; otherwise it 



tHB BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 85 

would be like a person complaining- that he oould hold 
silver in his hand, but could not hold copper." It is 
very obvious that this is not an argument, as was sup- 
posed by the great talker. There is no philosophical 
analogy between the capacities of the mind and those 
of the hand — between the power of reminiscence, and 
the power to hold silver. The two instances cannot 
be brought under the same general principle or major 
proposition; there being no analogy between them on 
which an inductive inference, can be founded — and 
consequently, no argumentative conclusion can be 
drawn from the one to the other. The mind and the 
physical powers belong to two different classes of being. 
Could the inductive philosopher ever draw the inference 
that he could remember one thing as well as another,from 
the fact that he could hold in his hand, copper as well 
as silver? What analogy is there between the two 
powers? Certainly, none, but such as rhetoric may 
employ by way of illustration and ornament. On an- 
other occasion, the same individual used the following 
remark, "No, Sir, people are not born with genius for 
particular employments or studies; for it would be like 
saying, that a man could see a great way east, but could 
not west." This example is just like the other, and its 
fallacy may be more clearly seen, by putting the last 
part of the sentence, first. Thus: "A man can see just 
as well east as he can west, therefore he has as much 
genius for one study as another." Here the conclu- 
sion does not follow from the premises; because there 
is no analogy between the capacity of the mind and 
the power of the eyes, upon which the inductive in- 
ference can be founded, which constitutes the major 
8 



86 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY 

premis viz : "every being that can see as well east, a£ 
it can west, has as much capacity for one study as an- 
other." Then, the minor premis would be, "A man 
can see as well east as he can west;'' and then the con- 
clusion would follow, "Therefore, he has as much ca- 
pacity for one study as another.'' It really appears 
like trifling, to expose such gross fallacies. But from 
the fact that the greatest minds are deluded by them, 
it is necessary to analyse them, and exhibit the nature 
of the error on which they are founded. But the most 
extraordinary instance of the confounding rhetorical 
analogy with philosophical analogy occurs in Bacon's 
Advancement of Learning and in the De Augmentis; 
and it shows how very delusive are such fanciful ana- 
logies. Bacon has absolutely based a department of 
philosophy upon them: or at least every instance which 
he has cited as an example of the subject matter of 
this department of philosophy, is tainted with the er- 
ror which we are exposing. He tells us that there are 
some principles which are not peculiar to one science, 
but are common to several; and the department of 
philosophy which embraces these principles, he calls 
Philosophia Prima, primitive or summary philosophy. 
We will cite only one example: An infectious disease 
is more likely to be communicated while it is in pro- 
gress, than when it has reached its height. This he 
says is a principle in medicine; and that it is also a 
principle in morals; for that the example of very aban- 
doned men injures public morality less than the ex^ 
ample of men whose good qualities have not all been 
extinguished by vice. The resemblance here is pure- 
ly fanciful, too obviously so, to need illustration after 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 87 

what has been said about the examples above. The 
most remarkable fact about this error of Bacon, is, 
that at the very time he cited these examples of his 
Prima Philosophia, he had in his mind the distinction 
which we are exhibiting, though he certainly could 
not have had a very distinct apprehension of it.— 
For he makes this remark in regard to the examples: 
"Neither are these only similitudes, as men of narrow 
observation may conceive them to be, but the same 
footsteps of nature treading or printing upon several 
subjects or matters." They most undoubtedly are 
'•'only similitudes" and not analogies upon which in- 
ductive inferences can be based. And what is still 
more remarkable, in the fifty -fifth aphorism of the first 
book of the Novum Organon, he has mentioned as a 
source of error, the tendency in some minds, to "com- 
pare even the most delicate and general resemblances-" 
and that such minds, "readily fall into excess, by 
catching at shadows of resemblance." These facts in 
relation to Bacon show the delusive nature of these 
fanciful analogies, and that though we may have a gen- 
eral notion of them, still we may be deceived in par- 
ticular instances of even the most marked character. 
One of the most beautiful illustrations of the differ- 
ence between philosophical and rhetorical analogy is 
given by Mr. Burke in his letters on a regicide peace; 
"I am not of the mind of those speculators, who seem 
assured that all States have the same periods of in- 
fancy, manhood and decrepitude that are found in in- 
dividuals. Parallels of this sort rather furnish simili- 
tudes to illustrate or adorn, than to supply analogies 
from which to reason. Individuals are physical be^ 



BS THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHIC 

ings — commonwealths are not physical but moral es~ 
sences." And the same distinction is well expressed 
by Darwin inthe preface to his Zoonomia: "The great 
creator of all things has infinitely diversified the works 
of his hands, but has at the same time stamped a cer- 
tain similitude on the features of nature, that demon- 
strates to us, that they are one family of one parent. — 
On this similitude is founded all rational analogy; 
which so long as it is concerned in [comparing the es- 
sential properties of bodies, leads us to many and im- 
portant discoveries: but when with licentious activity 
it links together objects otherwise discordantly some 
fanciful similitude, it may indeed collect ornaments 
for wit and poetry, but philosophy and truth recoil 
from its combinations." On rhetorical analogy, is 
founded most of the beautiful flowers of speech, which 
under the magic influence of genius, spring up on the 
most sterile subjects to beautify and adorn them: but it 
never can be made the foundation of inductive infer- 
ence It is from the nature of rhetorical analogy, that 
men have, in a great measure, formed their opinions 
of the force of analogical evidence in philosophy „ 
It is highly important therefore, to distinguish between 
them. 

Some have confined analogy to the resemblance of 
relations, both in philosophy and rhetoric. But this 
is unphilosophical and exceedingly inconvenient in 
practice; multiplying distinctions which cannot be 
kept up, by even the greatest degree of caution. In 
philosophy, every rational resemblance less than iden- 
tity, is analogy; and so in rhetoric, every fanciful re- 
semblance is analogy. In rhetoric, however, the ana* 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 89 

logy is always between individuals of different species, 
and never between individuals of the same class. And 
it may here be remarked, that it is with rhetorical 
analogies, and not with philosophical, that wit is con- 
versant: wit belongs to rhetoric, and not to logic. 

From the analysis which we have made of the evi- 
dence on which induction is founded, the great fun- 
damental principle of philosophical evidence is easily 
evolved. It is this: that in proportion as the analogy 
between instances is stronger, our inferences from one 
to the other is made with more and more confidence; 
and in proportion as it is weaker, they are made with 
less and less confidence. For example: an inference 
from one individual to another of the same class, is 
made with more confidence, than an inference from 
one species to another. The inferences of the anatomy 
of the human frame, for instance, are made with far 
more certainty from the analogies furnished in the dis- 
section of a man, than from those furnished in the dis- 
section of any other animal. This principle bears the 
same relation to induction, that the Dictum de omni 
etnullo of Aristotle does to the Syllogism. The dic- 
tum of Aristotle points out the connection between the 
premises and the conclusion of the syllogism, and this 
points out the connection between the particular in- 
stances and the inductive inference. And this prin- 
ciple is commensurate with the whole range of philo- 
sophical evidence, and embraces all the classes of pre- 
rogative instances set forth by Bacon in the second book 
of the Novum Organon, and connects them with the 
inductive inferences to be drawn from them. In its 
affirmative application it embraces the comparison of 
8* 



90 THE BACONIAN PHTLOSOFHT. 

instances and in its negative application, the rejection? 
of natures. It is also of a very practical character; as 
it is applicable to the most general as well as to the 
most particular cases. And in its negative applica- 
tion, it checks the natural proneness of the human 
mind to make hasty inductions. We will call this 
principle, the Dictum secundum magis et minus. 

We have now presented to our readers, a general 
view of logic and the method of investigation, and 
denned the limits of their respective provinces. 

It has often been disputed whether Aristotle un- 
derstood the inductive process. He certainly did know 
that there was such a process; for he frequently men- 
tions it in his writings. But it is no less certain, that 
he had no idea of its scope and its great importance in 
philosophical investigations: but thought it of little 
importance in comparison with the Syllogism, as he 
supposed that natural philosophy could be discovered 
by reasoning from a few general principles, and that 
therefore, the reasoning process was every thing in 
philosophical inquiries, and induction confined to very 
narrow limits; though, at the same time, it must bead- 
mitted, that he had some notion of the necessity of 
resorting to nature for something like principles; for 
as an observer and collector of facts and phenomena 
he greatly surpassed all the philosophers of his time. 
"For in common logic, (says Bacon) almost our whole 
labour is spent upon the syllogism. The logicians ap- 
pear scarcely to have thought seriously of induction, 
passing it over with some slight notice, and hurrying 
on to the formulae of dispute. But we reject the 
syllogistic demonstration, as being too confused, and 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 91 

letting nature escape from our hands. For, although 
nobody can doubt thatthose things which agree with the 
middle term agree with each other, (which is a sort of 
mathematical certainty)nevertheless,there is this source 
of error, namely, that a syllogism consists of proposi- 
tions, propositions of words,and words are but the tokens 
and signs of things. If, therefore, the notions of the 
mind, (which are as it-were the soul of words, and the 
basis of this whole structure and fabric) are badly and 
hastily abstracted from things, and vague, or not suf- 
ficiently defined, and limited, or, in short, faulty (as 
they may be) in many other respects, the whole falls 
to the ground. We reject, therefore, the syllogism, 
and that not only as regards first principles, (to which 
even the logicians do not apply them,) but also 
in intermediate propositions, which the syllogism cer- 
tainly manages in some way or other to bring out and 
produce, but then they are barren of effects, unfit for 
practice, and clearly unsuited to the active branch of 
the sciences. Although, we would leave therefore to 
the syllogism, and such celebrated and applauded de- 
monstrations, their jurisdiction over popular and spec- 
ulative arts, (for here we make no alteration,) yet, in 
every thing relating to the nature of things, we make 
use of induction, both for our major and minor propo- 
sitions. For we consider induction to be that form of 
demonstration which assists the senses,closes in upon 
nature, and presses on, and, as it were, mixes itself 
with action. 

Hence also the order of demonstration is naturally 
reversed. For at present the matter is so managed, 
that from the senses and particular objects they imme- 



92 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

diately fly to the greatest generalities as the axes round 
which their disputes may revolve: all the rest is 
deduced from them intermediately, by a short way we 
allow, but an abrupt one, and impassable to nature, 
though easy and well suited to dispute. But, by our 
method, axioms are raised up in gradual succession, so 
that we only at last arrive at generalities. And that 
which is most generalised, is not merely notional, but 
well defined, and really acknowledged by nature as 
well known to her, and cleaving to the very pith of 
things. 

By far our greatest work, however, lies in the form 
of induction and the judgment arising from it. For 
the form of which the logicians speak, which pro- 
ceeds by bare enumeration, is puerile, and its conclu- 
sions precarious, is exposed to danger from one contra- 
ry example, only considers what is habitual, and leads 
not to any final result. 

The sciences, on the contrary, require a form of in- 
duction capable of explaining and separating experi- 
ments, and coming to a certain conclusion by a proper 
series of rejections and exclusions." Notwithstanding 
this explicit avowal by Bacon, that the logicians had 
some, though a very inadequate notion of induction, 
many have contended that Bacon claimed to be, and 
that he really was the discoverer of the inductive pro- 
cess. But the fact that Bacon was not the first to re- 
mark upon the inductive process, does not detract in 
the slightest degree from his merit as a philosopher — - 
no more than the fact, that Copernicus and Kepler had 
hinted that the planets were held in their orbits by 
attraction, detracts from the immortal discoveries of 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. Vd 

Newton. For though Bacon did not discover the induc- 
tive process, yet he was the first to develop its nature 
as a method of investigation, to show its transcendant 
importance, and to lay down rules for conducting it 
aright. What other men saw through a glass darkly, 
he saw clearly and confidently. It was he who pour- 
ed the tide of fire over the fields of knowledge, and 
withered and consumed the poisonous growth, with 
which they were overrun, and prepared them for the 
rich harvests which have since been cultivated by the 
illustrious labourers who have followed his directions. 
When he was born, the temple of false philosophy 
still stood firm and the priests who ministered at its 
altars thought it eternal. He was brought up in the 
false creed, and soon learned all its mysteries: but his 
gigantic Anglo-saxon mind could not be dwarfed so 
as to wear the fetters of the schools. He saw the fol- 
ly of the miserable pedantry which was mistaken for 
profound knowledge; and in the full strength of his 
convictions, he determined to overthrow the false sys- 
tems amongst which men had been so long bewildered, 
and to free the human mind from the bondage of pre- 
judice and canonised authority. With this design he 
wrote the Novum Organon; and let the splendid dis- 
coveries of modern science attest his success! 



PART THE SECOND. 

chapter 2nd. 



THE THEORY OP MIND ASSUMED IN THE 
BACONIAN METHOD OF INVESTIGATION. 



"We must guide our steps by a clue, (says Bacon,) 
and the whole path, from the very first perceptions of 
our senses, must be secured by a determined method." 
We will endeavor to fulfil the doctrine set forth in 
this proposition; and therefore, will continue in this 
chapter to develop the Baconian Method of Investi- 
gation, until we trace it up to the first impressions 
made upon the senses. In order to do this, it will be 
necessary to inquire into the psychology or theory of 
mind assumed in the Baconian Method of Investiga- 
tion, and which the influence of that method upon 
English philosophy has caused to be developed by 
Locke and Reid. 

As the best mode of effecting this object we will 
first show the points of contact between psychology 
and logic, and between psychology and the method of 
investigation; and then exhibit an outline of the two 
great systems of psychology, which have divided the 
opinions of philosophers, and show their correlative 
methods of investigation, by developing the points of 
affiliation and doctrinal identity between them, 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 95 

The Creator of all things has established an order, 
an antecedence and sequence, in the phenomena of 
the universe of both matter and mind. The object of 
philosophy is to discover this order, by observing the 
phenomena,tracing their relations, and ascertaining the 
laws which govern them, for the purpose of building 
upon such discoveries, certain practical rules or arts 
for increasing the power of man. In the world of 
matter, we investigate the relations of material sub- 
stances, and their actions either of a mechanical or 
chemical nature upon each other; and found upon these 
relations the mechanical and chemical arts, by which 
the physical powers of man are so much augmented 
in his knowing how to brina; bodies into such circum- 
stances as will give rise to their peculiar actions. So 
in the world of mind, we investigate the relations of 
its phenomena, their antecedence and sequence in the 
order of time, their relations to the world of matter, 
and their antecedence and sequence in the logical or- 
der, an order peculiar to the world of mind, and 
which has no existence in the world of matter. 

The phenomena of mind may, for the convenience of 
this investigation, be divided into two classes,* namely 
those which relate to the intelligence — to perception, 
consciousness, memory, induction and reasoning-, and 
those which relate to the sensibility — to love, joy, 
hope, fear, anger, and all the other emotions; and 
upon the relations of the phenomena of both of these 
classes are founded certain practical rules or arts. — 

*Note. — We are well aware that the phenomena of the will 
constitute a distinct class, but the division which we have mad« 
is sufficiently accurate for our purpose. 



96 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

On the first, are founded logic and the method of iri» 
vestigation; and on the latter, are founded, morality and 
all the fine arts. It is with the first class, those which 
relate to the intelligence, that we have to deal in the 
investigation which we are pursuing; as it is amidst 
them that the connexion between psychology and lo- 
gic, and between psychology and the method of in- 
vestigation is to be discovered. Psychology by anal- 
ysing the phenomena of reasoning, exhibits the fun- 
damental laws of thought, which govern the mental 
acts in every demonstration: and logic exhibits the il- 
lative rules by which the conclusion is evolved out of 
the premises. This then is the point of contact be- 
tween psychology and logic, the boundary where 
the one ends, and the other begins. Psychology also 
exhibits, by analysing the phenomena of induction, 
the fundamental law of thought which governs the 
mental determination in every act of belief that the 
future will be like the past, or that like causes will pro- 
duce like effects; and the method of investigation ex- 
hibits the inductive rules or regulative principles by 
which the general conclusion is inferred from the par- 
ticular instances, And this is the point of contact 
between psychology and the method of investigation. 
It is at these points of contact, that psychology sup- 
plies the deficiencies of logic and the method of in- 
vestigation—gives light where they give none; for logic 
and the method of investigation pre-suppose psychol- 
ogy, and depend upon it for their whole strength. 

But psychology penetrates still further into the 
mysteries of human thought, and as reasoning and in- 
duction assume the truth of the facts attested by per- 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY* 97 

ceptio'n, consciousness and memory, it also analyses 
their phenomena, and evolves the fundamental laws of 
belief which govern all our knowledge derived from 
these sources respectively, and thus ascertains the very 
elements of human knowledge, which 'admit of no 
explanation, which borrow no light from any thing 
antecedent, but are self-luminous; and in this way sup- 
plies every thing which is assumed as true in logic and 
the method of investigation. With these preliminary 
remarks, indicating in a general way the connexion 
between psychology and logic, and between psycholo- 
gy and the method of investigation, we will now pro- 
ceed to exhibit the two great opposite systems of psy- 
chology and the correlative methods of investigation. 

The great problem which lies at the threshold of 
every inquiry into the phenomena of the human mind, 
and gives to every system of psychology its distinctive 
feature, in the point of view in which we are consid- 
ering the subject (its connexion with logic and the 
method of investigation) is what is the origin of our 
ideas, "those simple notions into which our thoughts 
may be analysed, and which may be considered as the 
principles or elements of human knowledge?'' There 
never have been, and never can be, more than two 
theories in regard to the solution of this problem. — 
One is the theory of innate ideas, or primitive cogni- 
tions which are not the product of the mind's own ac- 
tivity, but are its original furniture; the other, the the- 
ory, that all our ideas are founded ultimately in expe- 
rience, and are acquired through sensation and con- 
sciousness. These two opposite psychological theo- 
ries are the correlatives of the two opposite methods 
9 



98 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY^ 

of investigation, the a priori method, (which we have 
shown in the last chapter, to be nothing more than 
an application of the Aristotelian logic out of its proper 
sphere,) which makes all absolute verity to depend 
upon certain innate principles, or elements of knowl- 
edge, from which the mind starts and reasons out all 
science as legitimate deductions from them, in which 
the series of logical deductions will correspond with 
the series of facts subsisting in nature; and the induc- 
tive or Baconian method, which bases all knowledge 
upon experience, and considers principles a&mere gen- 
eralized facts obtained by the observation of particular 
phenomena. We will first treat of the theory of in- 
nate ideas and then show that it is the psychological 
correlative of the a priori method of investigation. 

The theory of innate ideas has appeared under dif- 
ferent phases; and more distinctly in the writings of 
Plato amongst the ancients, and Des Cartes amongst 
the modernsj than the writings of any other philoso- 
phers: Plato representing one phasis of this theory, 
and Des Cartes, the other. Plato held that there are 
in the soul certain innate ideas which form the basis of 
our conceptions and constitute the principles of our 
knowledge; and that these innate ideas were in the 
soul in a prior state of existence, and are now sugges- 
ted to the mind, by individual objects presented to the 
senses. That the process of acquiring knowledge is 
mere suggested reminiscence; and that reminiscence is 
in proportion as the mind becomes acquainted with in- 
dividual objects. For example: in the dialogue enti- 
tled "Phaedon," he asks, "Is it upon seeing equal 
trees, equal stones and several other things of that kind, 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 9$ 

that we form the idea of equality, which is neither the 
trees nor the stones, but something abstracted from all 
these objects?' 5 And he answers the question thus: "Be- 
fore we begin to see, feel, or use any of our senses, we 
must have had the knowledge of this intellectual equal- 
ity; else we could not be capable of comparing it with 
the sensible objects, and perceive that they have all a 
tendency towards it, but fall short of its perfection. 

''That is a necessary consequence from the premises. 

"But is it not certain that immediately after our 
birth, we saw, we heard, and made use of other senses? 

"Very true. 

"Then it follows that before that time, we had the 
knowledge of that equality? 

''Without doubt. 

"And of course, we were possessed of it before we 
were born? 

"I think so. 

•'If we possessed it before we were born, then we 
knew things before we were born, and immediately 
after birth; knew not only what is great, what is small? 
what is equal, but all other things of that nature. 

"For what we now advance of equality, is equally ap* 
plicable to goodness, justness, sanctity, and in a word 
to all other things that have a real existence; so that 
we must of necessity have known all these things before 
we came into this world." 

It is manifest from this extract, that Plato maintain- 
ed, that all our abstract notions are in the mind when 
we come into this world, and are, of course, first in 
the order of acquisition; and that it is by the light of 
thes"e notions, or ideas as he called them, that we com- 



100 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

prehend what we observe in this world — that it is by the 
abstract innate idea of equality, that we judge of the 
instances of equality exhibited in experience; by the 
abstract innate idea of goodness, that we judge of the 
instances of goodness, and so of every other innate 
idea. Thus maintaining that man has in his mind, an 
innate standard of truth, with which he can compare 
every thing, and test its verity. 

We will now exhibit the other phasis of this theory, 
as taught by Des Cartes. He held that the idea of the 
infinite, and all other ideas which are particularizations 
of it, are not acquired ideas, but are innate in the mind , 
having been communicated to it, or interwoven into 
its very being by the Creator, to be the foundation of 
all its acquired knowledge, and the guide of its future 
reasonings. Though he did not maintain that these 
ideas were always present in the mind: "When I say 
that any idea is born in us, or that it is naturally im- 
printed on our souls, I do not mean that it is always 
present in thought, for this would be contrary to fact; 
but only that we have in ourselves the faculty of re- 
producing it.'' 

p It is evident that these doctrines of Plato and Des 
Cartes are substantially the same, and exhibit only dit- 
ferent phases of the theory of innate ideas. 
• We will next show that the theory of innate ideas 
is the psychological correlative of the a priori method 
of investigation, and is the psychology assumed in that 
method; and that both Plato and Des Cartes actually 
adopted and used that method. Thus proving the 
proposition, both by philosophical analysis and histo- 
rical fact. 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 101 

f The least reflection will discover that the a priori 
method of investigation is the psychological correlative 
of the theory of innate ideas. For if all the principles 
or elements of our knowledge are an original furniture 
of the mind, and the most comprehensive principles 
stand first in the order of time in the mind — are those 
first developed to the intelligence, (as the theory of in- 
nate ideas teaches) — then the only method by which 
the mind can extend the sphere of its knowledge and 
build up this knowledge into science, is to combine 
these principles and deduce from them conclusions cor- 
responding to the real particulars subsisting in nature; 
and the chronological and logical order of our knowl- 
edge is the same. And it is also clear that the a priori 
method of investigation assumes the theory of innate 
ideas or principles; because if there are no innate prin- 
ciples, or if, in other words, a reason could be giv«n 
for every truth, no process of deduction (and the a 
priori method of investigation is the process of deduc- 
tion or reasoning as we have shown in the last chapter) 
could ever have a beginning; for to make reasoning the 
process of discovering first principles, would be to go 
on to infinity; because, in every argument or process 
of reasoning, something must be assumed as true, froia 
which our reasonings set out, and on which they ulti- 
mately depend. Where then, is the first starting point 
to be had, if it be not innate? It must be innate, 01 
else it is furnished by induction: and if it is furnished 
by induction, the a priori method of investigation o*n 
have no existence: but is in reality, what it was in the 
hands of Aristotle, (who did not believe in innate prin 
ciples, but, that they are ascertained by induction^ 
9* 



102 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

nothing more than reasoning from principles formed 
from a hasty or imperfect induction. It is evident then 
that the a priori method of investigation assumes the 
theory of innate ideas ot principles — requires them tor 
its starting points; and thus is developed the point of 
affiliation and doctrinal identity between them. 

It is thus manifest from philosophical analysis of 
the theory of innate ideas, and of the a priori method of 
investigation, that they are psychological correlatives. 
We will next show, that they are correlatives in the 
history of philosophy also — that they are historically, 
as well as philosophically related — that Plato and Des 
Cartes adopted and used the a priori method of inves- 
tigation, as well as maintained the doctrine of innate 
ideas. 

In the Phaedon, the same treatise from which we 
extracted the remarks relative to innate ideas, and the 
one in which Plato gives, though in an incidental way, 
his peculiar psychology, we have also a delineation of 
Plato's method of investigation; though this is given in 
an incidental way too; for in investigating the subject 
of the treatise, the immortality of the soul, he had to 
use both his psychological theory and his method o! 
investigation. 

"Have seeing and hearing," says Plato. '"any thing 
of truth in them, and is their testimony faithful? Or 
are the poets in the right in saying that we neither see 
nor hear things truly? For it these two senses of see- 
ing and hearing are not trustworthy, the others which 
are much weaker, will be far less such. Is it not by 
reasoning that the soul embraces truth? And does it 
pot reason better than before, when it is not encumber- 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 103 

ed by seeing and hearing, pain or pleasure? When, 
shut up within itself) it bids adieu to the body, and en- 
tertains as little correspondence with it as possible; 
and pursues the knowledge of things without touching 
them. Now the simplest and purest way of examin- 
ing thing?, is to pursue every particular thought alone, 
without offering to support our meditations by seeing 
or hearing, or backing our reason by any other corpo- 
real sense; by employing the naked thought without 
any mixture, and so endeavouring to trace the pure 
and general essence of things without the ministry of 
the eyes or ears: the soul being, if I may so speak, 
entirely disengaged from the whole mass of the body, 
which only encumbers the soul, and cramps it in the 
quest of wisdom and truth, as often as it is admitted to 
the least correspondence with it. If the essence of 
things be ever known, must it not be known in the 
manner above mentioned?" Plato exhibits his method 
of investigation still more clearly in the following re- 
marks extracted from the same treatise:-^"After 1 had 
wearied myself in examining all things, I thought it 
my duty to be cautious of avoiding what happens to 
those who contemplate an eclipse of the sun; for they 
lose the sight by it, unless they be careful to view its 
reflections in water or any other medium. A thought 
much like to that came into my head, and I feared I 
should lose the eyes of my mind, if I viewed objects 
with the eyes of my body, or employed any of my 
senses in endeavoring to know them. I thought I 
should have recourse to reason, and contemplate the 
truth of all things as reflected from it. It is possible 
ihe simile I use in explaining myself is not very just: 



104 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

for I cannot affirm that he who beholds things in the 
glass of reason, sees them more by reflection and sim- 
ilitude than he who beholds them in their operations. 
However, the way I followed, was this; from that time 
forward I grounded all upon the reason that seemed 
the best, and took all for truth, that I found confor- 
mable to it, whether in effects or causes; and what was 
not conformable I rejected, as being false." 

In these extracts we see that Plato held that <c it is 
by reasoning that the soul embraces truth," and that 
the mind has the light of all truth within itself, and 
all the material within itself, upon which to exert the 
reasoning process; and that it does not stand in need of 
the ministry of the senses to gain any information — in 
a word, that all philosophy is built up by reasoning 
from or upon innate ideas; for that all the phenomena 
in nature are but copies of these innate ideas, and are 
known to the mind, only by comparing them with these 
innate ideas and observing their resemblance to them 
as their types and models. 

That the a priori method of investigation was that 
used by Dc s Cartes also, is clearly manifested in his 
writings. He founded all knowledge upon a logical 
tasir— upon demonstration; and considered that the 
object of philosophy is to deduce by reasoning from 
first eruses, rules for the conduct of life and for the 
various arts. "It is clear," says he, "that we shall 
follow the best method in philosophy if from our 
knowledge of the deity himself, we endeavour to de- 
duce an explication of all his works; that so we may 
acquire the most perfect kind of science, which is that 
of effects from their causes." In accordance with thii 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 105 

view of the method of investigation to be used in phy- 
sical science, is his theory of the mind; for he maintains 
that the idea of God, which he makes the starting point 
in natural philosophy, is innate in the mind. Thus 
basing natural philosophy in psychology, and making it 
necessary to establish the foundation of psychological 
truths before certainty can be attained in physical truth. 
In order then to establish the foundation of psycholo- 
gical truth, he makes doubt the foundation of certainty 
and the starting point in human knowledge. 'It is 
not to day,'' says he, u for the first time that I have 
perceived in myself that, from my earliest years, I have 
received a great many false opinions as true, and that 
what I have built upon principles so badly ascertained, 
can be only very doubtful and uncertain. And accor- 
dingly, I have decidedly judged that I must sincerely 
undertake some time in my life to rid myself of all the 
opinions I had before taken upon trust, and begin al- 
together anew, from the foundation, if I would estab- 
lish any thing firm and constant in science." Reject- 
ing then, the knowledge of every thing, and plunging 
into absolute skepticism, he sets about to prove his own 
existence, as the first problem in knowledge; and docs 
it by this argument: — "I think, therefore I exist.'*- — 
Satisfied, that by this argument and the application of 
the principle contained in it, he had proved the reality 
of every thing revealed in consciousness — the reality 
of his own existence, his own thoughts, passions, &c, 
his next difficulty was to pass outol the sphere of con- 
sciousness, and prove the reality of things external to 
himself. In order to do this, he must find some fact 
r-evealed in -consciousness, (whose phenomena he had 



106 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

proved to be worthy of credit) as the starting point of 
the argument. This fact is the idea of a supremely 
perfect being, which he finds in his mind. He con- 
cluded, that as the mind of man is finite, it could not 
have produced by its own activity, this idea of the in«* 
finite; but that this idea must have some real object 
corresponding to it — which object is God — or in other 
words, that the idea of the absolute and infinite must 
have, from their very nature, a real object subsisting 
in time, corresponding to it. "If we carefully exam- 
ine," says he, ''whether existence belongs to a being 
supremely powerful, and what sort of existence, we 
shall find ourselves able clearly and distinctly to know, 
first, at least, possible existence agrees with him, as 
well as with all other things of which we have in our- 
selves any distinct idea, even those which are compos^ 
ed of fictions of our own mind: and next, because, we 
cannot think existence is possible, without knowing at 
the same time — keeping in mind his infinite power- 
that he can exist by his own force, we conclude that 
he really exists, and that he has been from all eterni- 
ty; for it is very evident from the light of nature, that 
that which exists by its own force, exists always; and 
thus we shall know that necessary existence is con. 
tained in the idea of a supremely powerful being, not 
by a fiction of the understanding, but because it be^ 
longs to the true and immutable nature of such a be-» 
ing to exist; and it will be easy for us to know that it 
is impossible for this supremely powerful being not to 
have in himself all other perfections that are contained 
In the idea, of God, in such sort, that, of their own 
proper nature and without any nation of the under- 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 107 

standing, they are always joined together and exist 
in God." By this argument Des Cartes satisfied him- 
self, that the existence of God is proved from the ex- 
istence of the idea of such a being in the mind; and 
that thus the existence of an external reality is prov- 
ed — that the boundary of consciousness is passed, and 
two orders of ideas are established: viz: himself and 
the external reality; the proof of himself, resting.upon 
his methodical doubt, "I think, therefore I exist," and 
the proof of the existence of the external reality rest- 
ing upon an idea corresponding to it in his mind.— 
Returning again into consciousness, he finds there, the 
idea of thought, and the idea of extension, under one 
or the other of which, he maintained, are embraced 
all other ideas; and as these ideas are radically distinct, 
he concluded that the substances of which they are re- 
spectively the attributes are distinct also. The world, 
then, is composed of two classes of beings, spirit and 
matter, they being the substance of which thought 
and extension are the essential attributes. But the 
question occurs to him, how does he know the reality 
of matter? And he solved it thus: Because he has 
a natural impulse to believe in the objects of his sen- 
sations, and God, whose existence he has proved, be- 
ing perfect in his nature, has guaranteed the truth of 
their testimony. Here then, is the starting point in 
natural philosophy — God and matter. And as matter and 
motion are, to his apprehension, the only phenomena 
in the physical world, in accordance with his doctrine 
just now proved, that the most perfect kind of science 
is that of effects deduced from their causes, he says, 
"give me matter and motion and I will explain the 



KB THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY 

universe;" and he accordingly explains all material 
phenomena by the application of mechanics based up- 
on geometry, making God the prime mover of the uni- 
verse, and the cause of all material phenomena. 

In this analysis of the Cartesian philosophy, in which 
we have endeavored to present the fundamental con- 
ceptions of that philosophy in their true relations and 
logical order, without any reference to the order in 
which they stand in the writings of Des Cartes, it is 
evident that the method is a priori — that it begins with 
an argument at all its salient points — that psychology 
is made the foundation of every truth, and that the 
very first truth in this is established by an argument. ] 
And what a miserable tissue of sophistry is the 
whole pretended argument; resting, as it and every 
other a priori argument must, upon mere assumptions 
mistaken for innate ideas or principles. The theory 
of innate ideas and the a priori method of investiga- 
tion are correlative systems of error. Each is neces- 
sary to support the other. And they have been the 
great fountains from which have flowed copious streams 
of error into every department of human knowledge. 
For psychology is the foundation of all human knowl- 
edge — is the centre around which every science re- 
volves — is the light in which all other sciences are 
seen; and in proportion as this light is true or false, is 
the correctness of all our opinions upon the great sub- 
jects of human thought. 

Having now established the point, both by philoso- 
phical analysis and historical fact, that the theory of 
innate ideas and the a priori method of investigation 
have a logical affinity and a doctrinal identity, and 



THB BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. !<K$ 

are consequently psychological correlatives, we will 
next treat of the psychological theory, that all our ideas 
are founded in experience and are acquired through 
sensation and consciousness, and show that it is the 
psychological correlative of the Baconian method of 
investigation; and in doing this., we shall trace that 
method to the very first impressions made upon the 
senses, and evolve the principles which govern every 
step of the process. 

The most profound and comprehensive remark ever 
uttered by man in the whole history of philosophy, is 
the first aphorism of the Novum Organon — "Man as 
the servant and interpreter of nature, does and under- 
stands as much as his observations on the order of na • 
ture, either with regard to things or the mind, permit 
him, and neither knows nor is capable of more." This 
proposition throws more light over the mysteries of 
nature than every thing that had been written before. 
It proclaims the true system of both mental and nat- 
ural philosophy, and defines the limits and the modes 
of both the knowledge and the power of man. All 
the rest of the Novum Organon does nothing morejthan 
develop the great truth contained in this proposition. 
In order to exhibit its full import, we will divide it 
into the two propositions asserting two kindred but 
distinct truths, of which it is composed. It speaks of 
man as the interpreter of nature, and also as the servant 
of nature. Let us keep these two truths separate; 
and consider the proposition, first leaving out what is 
said of man, as the servant of nature; and then leaving 
out what is said of him, as the interpreter of nature. — 
Man, as the interpreter of nature, understands as much 
10 



110 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

as his observations on the order of nature, either with 
regard to things or the mind, permit him, and does not 
know more. Here, it is declared, that the philosopher 
is a mere interpreter of nature, and that his knowledge 
is acquired by the observation of the order of nature 
of both things and the mind, and that he does not 
know more. This proposition then, while it proclaims 
that both natural and mental philosophy are confined 
to the observation of the order of nature, the antece- 
dence and sequence of its phenomena, just as distinct- 
ly proclaims the theory of mind, that all our knowledge 
is founded on experience — that we understand as much 
as our observations on the order of nature, either with 
regard to things or the mind, permit, but do not know 
more. But this exposition does not exhaust the full- 
ness of the proposition; for it speaks of man as the 
servant as well as the interpreter of nature, and thus 
points out the mode and the limit of his power as well 
as the mode and limit of his knowledge. The mode 
of his power consists in acting as the servant and not 
as the master of nature, and the mode of his knowledge 
consists in his interpreting and not anticipating nature. 
And here is at once shown the connexion between 
science and art, and the nature of both of them. Sci- 
ence consists in finding out the laws of nature; and 
art, or the power of man, consists in obeying these laws 
— in serving nature. Here then is evolved, out of the 
first sentence of the Novum Organon, the psychology 
or theory of mind assumed in the Baconian method of 
investigation, and which the whole scope and drift of 
that method make manifest; that all our knowledge is 
founded in experience. And thus is at once exhibited 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 



Ill 



the point of affiliation and doctrinal identity between 
the Baconian method of investigation and its correla- 
tive system of psychology. 

But we are not left to infer the psychology of Bacon 
merely from -what he has tacitly assumed; for though 
the chief object of his writings was to give directions 
in physical inquiries, and to divert the minds of men 
from metaphysical speculations about the essence, the 
eternal reasons and primary causes of things, and thus, 
to prevent them from admitting objections against plain 
experience, founded upon mataphysical notions — as 
Aristotle and the ancient philosophers had done, accor- 
ding to whose opinions physical science is the applica- 
tion of metaphysical notions to the explanation of the 
general phenomena of the universe — yet in his Ad- 
vancement of Learning, he has given a clear view of 
his theory of mind, and shows that he had a distinct 
apprehension of the great outline of the psychology 
which has since been developed by Locke and Reid. 
"The knowledge of man," says he, "is as the waters, 
some descending from above, and some springing from 
beneath; the one informed by the light of nature, the 
other inspired by divine revelation. The light of na- 
ture consisteth in the notions of the mind, and the re- 
ports of the senses. So then according to these two 
differing illuminations or originals, knowledge is first 
of all divided into divinity and philosophy. Bacon is 
here speaking of the origin of all human knowledge. — 
He says one kind is derived from revelation, and the 
other from the light of nature; and that the "light of 
nature consists of the notions of the mind and the re- 
ports of the senses. " By the notions of the mind, the 



112 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHtfr 

whole scope of his writings, their very drift and aim> 
show that he means those notions or ideas which are 
developed in consciousness, and not innate ideas; and 
it is plain, that by the reports of the senses, he means 
the ideas acquired through sensation: though we do not 
assert that Bacon had apprehended with scientific ac- 
curacy those two different sources of knowledge, but 
merely that he had a general knowledge of them. It 
is manifest then, that though Bacon laid great stress 
upon the knowledge derived through the senses, he 
did not think that sensation is the only source of knowl- 
edge, as some of the philosophers of the continent of 
Europe have ignorantly alleged, but that like Locke 
and Reid he admitted consciousness to be a distinct 
and equally important. source of knowledge. 

We will now proceed to show that the system of 
psychology, maintained by Bacon, is identical with 
that of Locke and Reid, indicating as we proceed the 
points of affiliation and doctrinal identity between their 
system and the Baconian method of investigation, and 
thus demonstrate that their system is assumed in that 
method. 

In developing the doctrines of Locke and Reid, we 
shall not so much follow in their tracks, as pursue the 
train of our own thoughts: neither shall we stop short 
at the limits to which they have developed their doc- 
trines, but will give to them more scientific complete- 
ness than they possess as developed by themselves, by 
filling up, with logical concatenations, the chasms 
which lie between the doctrines and their correlative 
method of investigation, and by modifying any doc- 
trine which they have expressed with too much latU 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 1J3 

iude or expressed imperfectly, so as to make them har- 
monize in a system. 

It was the signal glory of Locke to establish the 
true theory of the origin of our ideas; and thus to solve 
the problem which lies at the very threshold of psy- 
chology. The theory of innate ideas which we have 
already exhibited, had prevailed generally throughout 
the whole history of philosophy. This theory Locke 
overthrew, just as Bacon had done its correlative 
method of investigation, and showed how all our ideas 
originate.* In commencing his strictures upon the 
theory of innate Ideas he says: "It is an established 
opinion amongst some men, that there are in the un- 
derstanding certain innate principles, some primary 
notions, koinai ennoiai, characters as it were, stamped 
upon the mind of man, which the soul receives in its 
very first being, and brings into the world with it." — 



*We do not mean that Locke has shown correctly in every in- 
stance,howour notions have originated: but that he has shown, that 
they all are acquired through experience and are not an original 
furnimre of the mind. Can any one doubt, for example, how the 
notions of colours and sounds are acquired, when they consider 
that persons who have not the senses of sight and hearing can- 
not by any means whatever acquire these notions? They must 
see at once, that these notions are acquired through the senses of 
eight and hearing. Locke has shown that all other notions of the 
external world are acquired in a similar way; though his 'expla- 
nation of some instances may be erroneous. Neither does it de- 
tract fioin the truth of Locke's indication of the sources of these 
notions, that he has not chosen the most appropriate terms to ex- 
press them, viz. sensation and reflection. The last is the term 
which has been mostly considered erroneous. Consciousness has 
been, and we concur in the opinion, considered as indicating more 
exactly the source ot one class of our ideas. But this precision, 
though important in scientific accuracy; does not detract from 
the truth of the solution which Locke has given of the problem of 
the origin of our ideas. It is a pitiful criticism upon a great phi- 
losophical discovery, to dwell upon a mere inaccuracy in defini- 
tion; though certainly, the inaccuracy ought to be pointed out. 

10* 



114 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

He then selects the following propositions as "having 
the most allowed title to innate" principles, namely:- 
"whatever is, is; and it is impossible for the same thing 
to be and not to &e." He then argues that these prin- 
ciples are not so much as known to the greater part of 
mankind, and are therefore not innate. "For, first, it 
is evident, that all children and idiots have not the least 
apprehension or thought of them; and the want of that 
is enough to destroy that universal assent, which must 
needs be the necessary concomitant of all innate truths* 
it seeming to me near a contradiction to say that there 
are truths imprinted on the soul which it perceives not, 
understands not; imprinting, if it signify anything, be- 
ing nothing else but the making certain truths to be 
perceived. For to imprint anything on the mind, with- 
out the mind's perceiving it, seems to me hardly intel- 
ligible. If, therefore, children and idiots have souls, 
have minds with those impressions upon them, they 
must unavoidably perceive them, and necessarily know 
and assent to these truths; which, since they do not, it 
is evident that there are no such impressions. No 
proposition can be said to be in the mind, which it 
never yet knew, which it was never yet conscious of." 
To the argument which had been frequently used by 
the advocates of the doctrine of innate ideas, that men 
know these innate principles, as soon as they come to 
the use of reason, he replies: "But how can those men 
think the use of reason necessary, to discover princi- 
ples that are supposed innate, when reason, (if we may 
believe them,) is nothing else but the faculty of de- 
ducing unknown truths from principles or propositions, 
that are already known! We may as well think the 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 115 

use of reason necessary to make our eyes discover vis- 
ible objects, or that there should be need of reason, or 
the exercise thereof, to make the understanding see 
what is originally engraven on it, and cannot be in the 
understanding before it is perceived by it." After 
showing that the fact that these propositions are assen- 
ted to, as soon as proposed and understood, does not 
prove them innate, and after deducing a variety of oth- 
er arguments against the doctrine of innate ideas or 
principles, he says: "I say next that these two gener- 
al propositions are not the truths that first possess the 
mind of children, nor are antecedent to all acquired 
and adventitious notions; which if they were innate, 
they must needs be. The child certainly knows that 
the nurse that feeds it, is neither the cat it plays with, 
nor the blackmore it is afraid of; that the wormseed or 
mustard it refuses, is not the apple or sugar it cries for, 
this it is certainly and undoubtedly assured of; but wil[ 
any one say, it is by virtue of this principle, that it is 
imposssible for the same thing to be, and not to be, 
that it so firmly assents to these and other parts of its 
knowledge? Or that the child has any notion or ap- 
prehension of that proposition, at any age, wherein yet 
it is plain, it knows a great many other truths?" By 
this train of reasoning, Locke has utterly overthrown 
the theory of innate ideas. This he does in the first 
book of his work on the human understanding. And 
in the second book, he shows the true theory of the 
origin of ideas or of human knowledge. 

"Let us," says he, <{ then suppose the mind to be as 
we say white paper, void of all characters, without any 
ideas, how comes it to be furnished? Where comes 



116 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

it by that vast store which the busy and boundless fan- 
cy of man has painted on it with almost endless variety? 
Where has it all the materials of reason and knowl- 
edge? To this I answer, in one word, from experi- 
ence; in that all our knowledge is founded, and from 
that it ultimately derives itself. Our observation em- 
ployed either about external objects, or about the in- 
ternal operations of our minds, perceived and reflected 
upon by ourselves, is that which supplies our under- 
standing with materials of thinking. These two are 
the fountains of knowledge, from whence all the ideas 
we have or naturally can have, do spring." Such is 
Locke's theory of the origin of human knowledge — it 
is all founded on experience. 

Here we have arrived at the point of affiliation and 
doctrinal identity, between the psychology of Locke, 
and the methods of investigation of Bacon, namely, thai 
all our knowledge is founded on experience. This is 
the theory of mind with all its correlative doctrines, 
that is assumed in the Baconian method of investiga- 
tion. This theory of mind teaches that we begin with 
the knowledge of particulars and proceed to the knowl- 
edge of generals, as is taught throughout Locke's wri- 
tings; and that nothing but particulars producing" par- 
ocular effects have any real existence; and that gener- 
als are nothing more thai: the conceptions of the mind 
formed from the contemplation of particulars, and are 
not real archetypical existences as Plato thought, by 
which the nature of particulars are comprehended. 

Though Locke had, as we have shown, solved the 
great fundamental problem of psychology, and thus 
laid the foundation of mental philosophy* yet he had 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHT. 117 

assumed in that solution a most erroneous theory in 
regard to the manner in which the mind perceives both 
external objects and itself. He assumed the ideal the- 
ory, that ideas or images of things in the mind, and not 
things themselves are the only objects of thought 
which had prevailed universally from the earliest his- 
tory of philosophy. Bishop Berkeley, after the time 
of Locke, showed that this doctrine led irresistibly to 
the denial of the existence of the material world; be- 
cause if we perceive nothing but ideas, there is no 
ground for inferring that any material world exists; a& 
there is nothing in ideas to indicate such a fact. But 
Berkeley held that the mind does perceive itself im- 
mediately, and therefore concluded that the spiritual 
world has a real existence. Hume, who was instiga- 
ted by a passion to overthrow all belief, philosophical 
as well as religious, in order that he might engulph all 
knowledge in absolute skepticism, had the acumen to 
pierce through the inconsistency of Berkeley's doc- 
trines in regard to the spiritual world, and his doc- 
trines in regard to the material world, and showed that 
Berkeley had no more right to hold that the mind per- 
ceived itself immediately, than he had to hold that it 
perceived the material world immediately; and as 
Hume held the ideal theory to be true, he turned the 
arguments which Berkeley had used against the exis- 
tence of the material world, against the existence of 
the spiritual, and showed that a denial of its existence 
is also a legitimate deduction from the ideal theory. — 
So that a Christian Bishop and an infidel philosopher 
had, by their joint labours, shown that a doctrine in 
which they both believed, and wh : ch had prevailed unu 



118 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

versally in this philosophical world for several thou- 
sand years, proved beyond a doubt that the universe of 
both matter and mind is all an illusion; and that noth- 
ing exists but certain ideas governed by laws of con- 
stant succession. 

Thus had skepticism, by attacking English philoso- 
phy on a point where it had inadvertently based itself 
upon error, utterly overthrown it. But in the order of 
Providence, a champion for the truth appeared in 
Reid, who, imbued with the true spirit of English phi- 
losophy, had the sagacity to perceive that the conclu- 
sions of Berkeley and Hume, are a reductio ad absur- 
dum of the ideal theory, and at once set about to ex- 
amine it; for up to this time, he had believed in its truth. 
He showed that when applied to the sense of sight, 
there is something plausible in the theory, that the 
mind perceives the images of things and not things 
themselves, but that when applied to the other senses 
it is perfectly absurd. *' As to objects of sight," says 
he, "I understand what is meant by an image of the 
figure in the brain: but how shall we conceive an im- 
age of their colour, where there is absolute darkness?- 
Aud as to all other objects of sense, except figure and 
colour, 1 am unable to conceive what is meant by an 
image of them. Let any man say what he means by 
an image of heat and cold, an image of hardness or 
softness, and an image of sound or smell, or taste. The 
word image, when applied to these objects of sense has 
absolutely no meaning.^ By this and many other 
modes of reasoning, Reid showed beyond a doubt that 
this theory is a mere hypothesis feigned in a vain en- 
deavour to fathom the mystery of the union between 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. - 119 

body and soul, between mind and matter. Yet he did 
not attempt to substitute for it any theory of bis own, 
of the manner in whicb the mind perceives external 
things; as be considered tbis beyond the sphere of phi- 
losophy. "How a sensation,'' says he, "should instant- 
ly make us conceive and believe the existence of an 
external thing altogether unlike to it, I do not pretend 
to know; and when I say that the one suggests the 
other, I mean not to explain the manner of their con- 
nexion, but to express a fact, which every one may be 
conscious of; namely, that by a law of our nature, such 
a conception and belief constantly and immediately 
follow the sensation." Though Reid did not attempt 
to show the manner in which the mind perceives ex- 
ternal objects, for this is impossible; yet he has solved 
the second great problem in psychology as Locke has 
solved the first. This second problem is, upon what 
does our knowledge of the existence of the material 
and spiritual worlds rest? How do I know that these 
are not illusions, as Hume and Berkeley have taught? 
We have shown how Des Cartes has answered these 
questions — that he based their solutions upon argu- 
ment — upon demonstration: which is the basis upon 
which the theory of innate ideas must forever found it; 
as that theory knows no belief independent of or an- 
terior to demonstration. And though Hume (for we 
will now take leave of Berkeley) adopted the theory 
of Locke, that all our knowledge is founded ultimate- 
ly upon experience, yet he agreed with Des Cartes, 
that all belief is founded upon demonstration, and thus 
formed an inconsistent mongrel creed, which is the 
hallucination of the skeptic, who seeing in his own 



l£0 THK BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY-. 

mind contradictory opinions, concludes that this is the 
character of truth. Reid, therefore, taking as the 
foundation of his inquiry, the truth of Locke's doctrine* 
(though it must be admitted that Reid does not always 

*In consequence of the skeptical conclusions which Humu de- 
duced from the ideal theory, Reid was led to overlook in a great 
measure the importance of the service rendered by Juocke to men- 
tal philosophy, because Locke had assumed that theory in his 
explication of mental phenomena. He overlooked the fact that 
the great aim of Locke was to solve the problem of the origin of 
human knowledge, and that in the solution of this problem, he 
had, more by inadvertence, than by deliberate consideration, as- 
sumed the ideal theory, and that his solution is conect whether 
the ideal theory be true or not. In fact all that Reid has himself 
done, proves that Locke's theory of the origin of human knowl- 
edge is true. For, while Reid is refuting the ideal theory, he in- 
cidentally establishes the fact that there are no innate ideas or no- 
tions, but that they are acquired by experience — suggested by 
sensation and consciousness. It is true that he says frequently 
in his writings that there are other ideas than those of sensation 
and reflection: but then, we must observe what he means by this. 
He does not lay it down as an abstract proposition, but confines 
its meaning to the ideal theory, and thus limits the meaning of 
the proposition. He is refuting the ideal theory, and uses this 
proposition as a touchstone to refute that theory. For exaraple, 
he says, "The conception of a mind, is neither an idea of sensa- 
tion nor of reflection; for it is neither like any of our sensations, 
nor like anything we are conscious of." Now, in this sentence, 
when it is taken in connexion with Reid's argument, properly, 
the first proposition — "The conception of a mind is neither an 
idea of sensation nor of reflection," is the conclusion, and the 
last proposition — "For it is neither like any of our sensations nor 
like anything we are conscious of is the proof of the premises from 
which the first is deduced. His object is to refute the theory that 
our ideas are mere images of something in sensation or conscious- 
ness; and in order to do this, he shows that the idea of mind is not 
an image of anything either in sensation or consciousness: but 
that it is a notion which is suggested to us by our sensations, just 
as the idea of hardness is not like that quality in matter, yet it 
is suggested to us by feeling a body which possesses that quality. 
But still it is evident, that Reid supposed that he himself had 
solved the great problem in psychology — that he supposed the 
problem, whether the mind perceives things or the images of 
things, is a greater problem than that of the origin of our ideas, 
and he has accordingly subordinated this last, to the other, and 
classed Locke and Des Cartes, as belonging to the same school of 
mental philosophy. And even Dugald Stewart, with all his sys- 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 121 

appear to comprehend fully his relation to Locke in 
the development of English psychology,) that all our 
knowledge is founded ultimately in experience, by a 
most profound and accurate analysis of mental phe- 
nomena, proved that there is in the mind an element 
of belief independent of demonstration, and evolved 
the great fundamental laws of human belief; and thus 
laid open to the eye of philosophy what it had so long 
sighed after, and toiled for through so many thousand 
years — the solid foundations of absolute verity, and 
raised up English philosophy from the abyss into which 
Hume had so coldly and stealthily piloted her. As 
Locke had shown that the elements of knowledge are 
not innate,and that neither are they acquired by reason- 
ing, but through sensation and consciousness, Reid, 
true to these principles of him whom God in his prov- 
idence had made his forerunner and master, though as 
we have already said, he did not seem to comprehend 
the fact, strove, and successfully, to discover the psycho- 
logical laws which govern human belief in regard to the 
knowledge acquired through these original sources. — 
The law of belief which governs the knowledge ac- 



tematic and critical cast of mind, did not discern the precise re- 
lation which Reid held (o Locke in the development of mental 
philosophy: but thought that Reid had originated a new mental 
philosophy. And this view of the subject, has led Stewart to ex^ 
press in his writings, opinions of Locke somewhat contradictory; 
thusshowing that his uiind was rather confused on the subject. All 
these errors of Stewart resulted from his not viewing psychology 
from logic, as we have done. By looking at it Irom logic, it is at 
once discovered, that what is the origin of human knowledge, is the 
fundamental problem, and that the solution of this problem is the 
first step in psychology, and that all philosophers must be classed 
under one or the other of the two solutions which have been giv- 
en of it, and not under tbe solutions of a minor problem, such as 
tchetiur the mind perceives images or things themselves. 

11 



122 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY* 

quired through sensation, he showed to be, that suck 
is the constitution of human nature, that man cannot 
but believe in the reality of whatever is clearly attested 
by the senses. And he showed that the law of belief 
relative to the phenomena of consciousness, is, that 
such is the constitution of human nature, that man cannot 
but believe in the reality of whatever is clearly attested 
by consciousness. He showed these to be ultimate facts 
in psychology, incapable of resolution into simpler el- 
ements. That human intelligence cannot penetrate 
deeper into the mysteries of faith. That here man 
finds laws of imperative command to believe, and that 
man cannot but believe. These laws are constituent 
elements of the mind. The mind must be annihilated 
before these laws can cease to operate; for the sane 
mind obeys by necessity. Disobedience is impossible 
except in insanity, and even then, disobedience is only 
partial. Another fundamental law of belief Reid 
showed to be, that man is so constituted that he cannot 
but believe in whatever he distinctly remembers. This 
law is auxiliary to the others; for without this law, the 
other two would be nearly useless. But the great 
fundamental law of belief, upon whose broad founda- 
tions, all science immediately rests, the law of induc- 
tive belief, which is the only guide to our knowledge 
in the darkness of the future, the law by which the 
mind infers the future from the past — that like causes 
will produce like effects — still remained undiscovered; 
and the dauntless skepticism of Hume stood in the very 
vestibule of the temple of philosophy, boldly declaring 
that man cannot know any thing but what he has ac- 
tually seen or been conscious of; and that even this 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 123 

knowledge must be verified by reasoning,as all certainty- 
rests upon demonstration. Reid therefore showed by 
a most rigid analysis of mental phenomena, that man 
is so constituted that he cannot but believe that like 
causes will produce like effects; and that the future will 
be like the past: and thus discovered the great funda 
mental law of belief which governs the mental deter- 
mination in the inductive process; and thereby connec. 
ted the whole mental theory of Locke and himself With 
the Baconian method of investigation; for this is the 
point of contact between psychology and the method 
of investigation, as we showed in the beginning ot this 
chapter. Reid has therefore solved the second great 
problem in psychology; and showed that, the Baconi- 
an method of investigation which maintains that in- 
duction, and not reasoning, is the paramount process 
in the acquisition of knowledge, and that perception, 
and consciousness, and induction, and not reasoning, 
are the ultimate foundations of verity, has assumed a 
correct theory of the human mind. 

According to English psychology then, the mind of 
man is developed from without inwards — sensation be- 
ing exerted before consciousness, consciousness before 
induction, and induction before reasoning. As Reid 
showed that in the various exertions of thought there 
is not in the mind, any object distinct from the mind 
itself, but that what philosophers had called ideas or 
images of things in the mind, are nothing but the 
thoughts or acts of the mind, the doctrine of English 
psychology that all our knowledge is founded ultimate- 
ly upon experience, means that the powers of the mind 
are dormant until wakened into consciousness by some 



124 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY 

impression made upon the senses, and that as soona# 
this is done, the knowledge of two facts is acquired 
at once, that of the existence of the object of sensation, 
and of the person's own existence as a sentient being; 
and thus two orders of ideas or notions are established ,- 
the mind and that which is not the mind; and that the 
original elements of all our knowledge are suggested 
to the mind by some such occasions — that certain im- 
pressions on our organs of sense are necessary to sug- 
gest to the mind a knowledge of external things, and 
to awaken it to a consciousness of its own existence, 
and to give rise to the exercise of its various faculties; 
and that after consciousness is thus awakened, it be- 
comes a source of ideas or notions distinct from those 
of sensation— that the ideas of colours, sounds, hard- 
ness, extension, and all the qualities and modes of mat- 
ter are received through the senses; and that the ideas 
of memory, volition, imagination, anger, love and all 
the acts and affections of mind are suggested in con- 
sciousness; and that it is from the materials thus fur- 
nished in the way of experience, that the mind by com- 
bining, abstracting, generalising, and so forth, builds 
up all knowledge. 

This mere historical order of the development of 
the mind shows that particulars are known before gen- 
erals; and that consequently, perception is exercised 
before induction, and induction, before reasoning; be- 
cause perception informs us of particulars, induction 
of generals, and reasoning sets out from generals, and 
is therefore dependent on induction for the truth of its 
premises; and consequently there cannot be an a priori 
method of investigation. 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 126 

English psychology, then, has discovered the origin 
of human knowledge, and the fundamental laws of 
belief, which govern the two original sources of this 
knowledge, sensation and consciousness, and also the 
fundamental law of belief which governs the inductive 
inference of a general conclusion from particular ^in- 
stances exhibited in sensation and consciousness, and 
shown that these fundamental laws of belief are ele- 
ments of the mind itself; and consequently ultimate 
facts in psychology; and thus, by strict analysis of 
phenomena, laid open the whole mental process of ac- 
quiring knowledge, and established the basis of abso- 
lute verity. 

We have then in accordance with the proposition of 
Bacon quoted at the beginning of this chapter, a sure 
foundation to tread on through the whole path of in- 
vestigation, from the very first perceptions of the sens- 
es, to the highest generalizations of induction— having 
the fundamental laws of belief developed by Reid, to 
stand on safely and confidently in admitting the infor- 
mation of the senses, the information of consciousness, 
the information of memory and the conclusions of in- 
ductive inference. 

But let us return for a moment to the ground over 
which we have passed, and see whether we cannot 
throw more light on the theory of mind that all our 
knowledge is founded on experience; or rather, let us 
look at that theory in another light. 

Lord Bacon, as we have already shown, teaches that 
the knowledge of man is derived from two sources, the 
light of nature, and divine revelation: "The knowl- 
edge of man is as the waters, some descending from 

n* 



i'4,0 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

above, and some springing from beneath; the one in- 
formed by the light of nature, the other inspired by 
divine revelation." As we have examined psychology 
in the light of nature, we will now inquire whether 
any further light is thrown upon it by divine revela- 
tion. 

It is distinctly taught in the book of Genesis, that 
man originally received the truth by immediate reve- 
lation from God; and that he conversed with superior 
intelligences, messengers from Heaven; and thus, by a 
supernatural tuition, was instructed in knowledge 
which he could not have acquired by his unaided in- 
tellect. Now, if such communications of knowledge 
were necessary to the education of man, in the earliest 
period of his history, when he had just drawn his in- 
tellectual life from its first source, and possessed all the 
mental energy, which it may be conjectured he re- 
ceived when his intellectual endowments were first 
bestowed upon him by the hands of the Creator, is it 
not manifest, that the knowledge of man is not innate 
injits elements in the mind, and is not a mere devel- 
opment of human reason? For, at the creation of man, 
his physical necessities, as well as his mental enjoy- 
ments, required more than at any time since, that 
knowledge should be innate in his mind. But we 
find that man was treated as an ignorant being, as in 
his infancy, and was instructed by superior intelligen- 
ces. And this same supernatural instruction in some 
form was continued by prophets and inspired men, un- 
til it was completed in the gospel of Jesus.' 

Has not God, then, treated man on the assumption 
that knowledge is not a mere development of human 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 127 

reason exercised upon elements or primordial ideas in- 
nate in the mind? It may, perhaps, be argued that it 
requires time to develop knowledge from these primor- 
dial notions, and that therefore man was necessarily- 
instructed in the earliest period of his history. But we 
judge that this has no force. Because the faculties of 
the first man were created mature, and his mental eye, 
undimmed by sin, we may conjecture, possessed an 
extraordinary degree of intuition, seeing with the 
greatest clearness whatever can be the object of intel- 
lectual perception; and therefore he could have devel- 
oped his innate ideas into sufficient knowledge, if this 
had been the mode of acquiring knowledge, which the 
Creator had established for him. But even if the first 
man had received his knowledge by an instantaneous 
endowment, it would not have impugned our theory; 
because his intellectual faculties and his physical na- 
ture were created mature, and not left to the slow pro- 
cess of natural growth, and therefore such an endow- 
ment would have been merely in keeping with the 
extraordinary dealings of the Creator, above the course 
of nature. But it is certain that the first man and all 
his posterity were treated as beings incapable of ac- 
quiring sufficient knowledge without supernatural in- 
struction; and the fact that their faculties were mature 
and yet their knowledge deficient, forcibly corroborates 
our position. 

But the gospel makes our conclusion still more clear. 
The apostle Paul says: "I had not known sin, but by 
the law; for I had not known lust, except the law had 
said thou shalt not covet." What is this but asserting 
that there is nothing in the reason of man which could 



128 THE BACONIAN PHlLOSOPtilf . 

have taught him sin? The law was a schoolmaster, to 
bring man to the gospel; and the gospel has revealed 
still more clearly the truth to man. 

So far from the most essential knowledge being in- 
nate in man, it has been necessary in all periods o^ 
the world down to the present time, that man should 
he instructed by others of superior knowledge: and 
thus in modern times, a general providence is perform- 
ing for man what God did in the earlier periods of 
the world by direct instrumentality. No nation has 
ever risen from barbarism in the scale of civilization 
by its unaided efforts. All have borrowed learning 
from those which have preceded them. Every devel- 
opment of humanity has given its light to those which 
have succeeded it. The Greeks did all which philo- 
sophy, or the unaided reason of man, can do towards 
the solution of the mysteries of humanity. But after 
all their intellectual achievements, it has been declared 
by divine revelation, "that man by wisdom knew not 
God; v and that their philosophy was wisdom falsely so 
called. But who can tell how much of Greek philo- 
sophy was a traditionary reflection of divine revela- 
tions? To deny, that much of it was, would be to run 
counter to the whole current of history, and to falsify 
the best established inductions of philosophy. All the 
philosophy of every period of the world has been en- 
lightened by divine revelations; and by a strange re- 
flex action, the light thrown back from philosophy up- 
on revelation, often enables man to see the truths of 
revelation the more clearly. Philosophy becomes a 
mirror, in which we can see the image of revelation, 
reflected by its own light, in brighter lustre often, than 



tHE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 129 

When we look at it immediately: but still it is the 
light of revelation all the while revealing the truth to 
us. In order to apply to individual man, what is here 
said of nations, it is merely necessary to reflect, that 
what is developed in nations, is also developed in the 
individual man: as a nation is but an aggregate of in- 
dividuals. 

We think, that our theory is further confirmed by 
the fact that the same sort of errors are manifest in the 
theology of nations which adopt the theory of innate 
ideas, as in their philosophy. Those nations which 
adopt this theory, and that all philosophy is nothing 
more than a development of human reason, have fallen 
into error by making revelation subordinate to philo- 
sophy—have modified the doctrines of revlation by the 
teachings of reason. Whereas, those nations which 
have adopted the opposite doctrine, that all knowledge 
is acquired by experience, either from the light of na- 
ture, or the light of revelation, have submitted to the 
teachings of both these lights— have become the mere 
interpreters of both nature and revelation — have ad- 
mitted that the mind has no innate intellectual con- 
ceptions, or innate moral principles, by which to try 
the truth of the doctrines of revelation: hut have ad- 
mitted as the truth whatever a fair interpretation showa 
to be the doctrines revealed. The English^ who adopt 
the doctrine, that all knowledge is founded in experi- 
ence, have the largest mass of orthodox theology — the- 
ology conforming to a strict interpretation of the scrip 
tures^of any nation in Christendom, while the Ger^ 
waan3 and French,, who maintain, to a great extent, uiw 
$er some modification or other, the theory of innate. 



130 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

ideas, and exalt the ability of human reason, have 
reasoned away the obvious and philological meaning of 
the scriptures, in explaining their doctrines by certain 
abstract intellectual conceptions; and thus substituted 
a philosophical theology in the place of divine revela- 
tion, thereby declaring themselves wise above what is 
written. 

We have now, in the two chapters of the second part 
ot this discourse, exhibited an outline of the method of 
investigation, the process, the. starting points, and the 
foundations, of the English philosophy, and contrasted 
them with those of the opposite system of philosophy, 
in order, that our readers might see, in comparison with 
the other, the solid foundations of that philosophy 
which has formed the opinions and the mental habits 
of the Anglo-Saxon race; and also, that they might 
have a touchstone of philosophical criticism, by which 
to test the validity of the reigning speculations of the 
day. For such is the increasing taste, both in this 
country and England, for the transcendental specula- 
tions of the German and French philosophy, that un- 
less something is done, to check its progress, our old 
English philosophy will be cut loose from its strong 
anchor of common sense, and be driven off from its 
ancient moorings, to be dashed and tossed, by every 
wind of speculation, upon the boundless ocean of 
skepticism, 



PART THE THIRD. 



NATURAL THEOLOGY. 

ITS PLACE AMONGST THE SCIENCES; AND ITS EVIDENCE. 



The second part of this discourse, not only teaches 
the true method of investigation, but it may also be 
employed as a touchstone of philosophical criticism, to 
direct and enlighten the judgement in philosophy, just 
as rhetoric is a touchstone of literary criticism, to di- 
rect and refine the taste in literature. We will there- 
fore, in this third part of the discourse apply the logi- 
cal and psychological principles developed in the sec- 
ond part, by way of philosophical criticism, to Lord 
Brougham's Discourse of Natural Theology, and 
Hume's Essay on a Special Providence and a Future 
Fate, in order to show, how the errors of both these 
productions may be detected by the application of these 
principles; and also to make it manifest, that Natural 
Theology is a branch of the Baconian or inductive 
philosophy, and is supported by every principle of that 
philosophy, both logical and psychological: and thus, 
while we show the importance of the second part of 
this discourse as a touchstone of philosophical criticism, 
at the same time put to rest the ignorant assertion 
which we noticed in the first part of this discourse, 
that the Baconian philosophy leads to atheism. 



132 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

With a view then to these objects, let us enquire 
what is the proper place of Natural Theology amongst 
the sciences, and what is the nature of the evidence 
upon which it rests! 

Natural theology, is a branch of the inductive phi- 
losophy, and is founded upon the same sort of evidence, 
as that upon which natural philosophy and metaphysics 
are based. Lord Brougham in his "Discourse of 
Natural Theology," enunciates this proposition; and 
the whole design of his work is to establish it: but 
he has in the very out-set, most strangely assumed a 
false notion in regard to the nature of the evidences 
on which natural theology rests; and then endeavours 
by a laboured analysis, to show, that the evidences on 
which natural philosophy and metaphysics are based, 
are of the same character. He assumes that all the 
evidence upon which natural theology rests is deduc- 
tive; and then endeavours to show, that all the evi- 
dence is deductive also, on which natural philosophy 
and metaphysics repose. Nothing can be more erro- 
neous than these notions; and more flimsy sophistry 
was never employed to sustain error, than the noble au- 
thor has pressed into his service. A false notion in logic 
which runs through the whole discourse, led him into 
these errors. This false notion in logic, is the confound - 
ing the fundamental laws ot belief with reasoning; and 
confounding reasoning with simple comparison. In- 
deed, the author's logical doctrines go the full length 
of rejecting altogether perception and consciousness, 
and substituting the process of reasoning in their stead. 
On pages 18 — 21, he remarks: — "The careless inquirer 
into physical truth would certainly think he had seiz- 



tHE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 133 

sd on a sound principle of classification, if he should 
divide the objects with which philosophy, natural and 
mental, is conversant, into two classes— those objects 
of which we know the existence by our senses, or our 
consciousness; that is, external objects which we see, 
touch, taste, and smell, internal ideas which we con- 
ceive or remember, or emotion which we feel — and 
those objects of which we only know the existence by 
a process of reasoning, founded upon something origi- 
nally presented by the senses or by consciousness."— 
The author then goes on, with a tissue of the most 
egregious sophistry, to refute the truth of this classifi- 
cation; and after citing a great many instances of truths, 
which are generally supposed to be ascertained by 
perception and consciousness, and not by reasoning, 
he asks: "But can we say that there is no process of 
reasoning even in the simplest case which we have sup- 
posed our reasoner to put — the existence of the three 
kingdoms, of nature, of the heavenly bodies, of the 
mind? It is certain that there is in every one of these 
cases a process of reasoning." Now, is it not making 
wild work with mental philosophy, to assert that the 
existence of external objects, and even the existence of 
the mind is ascertained by processes of reasoning? — 
Why, what can the author mean by reasoning? Let 
him answer for himself! On page 20, in arguing this 
very point, he says — "The very idea of diversity im- 
plies reasoning, for it is the result of a comparison* "- 
Here, he evidently confounds reasoning with simple 
comparison; as will appear by throwing the argument 
into a syllogism; because the major premis will be— 
''Whatever is the result of a comparison, implies rea- 
12 



134 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

soning;" which is virtually asserting that comparing is 
reasoning.* Whereas, reasoning is a comparing of 
two terms with a third term, and drawing a conclusion 
from the comparison, that the two terms agree with 
each other, from the fact that they agree with the same 
third term, or that they disagree with each other, from 
the fact that one of them agrees, and the other disa- 
grees with the same third term. So then, in every 
act of reasoning there are three acts of comparison, two 
simple and one inferential; and therefore to say that 
simple comparison is reasoning, is grossly erroneous.- 
Now, what is the process of reasoning, by which the 
existence of such an object of sense as a tree, is ascer- 
tained? I should like to see the argument in the form 
of a syllogism' But the notion that the existence of 
the mind is ascertained by reasoning and not by con- 
sciousness, is the grossest absurdity in the whole dis- 
course. Reasoning is the deducing something un- 
known, from something known. Now, what is it, 
from which the existence of the mind is deduced, 
which was known before the existence of the mind 
was known? What is the major premis of such a con- 
clusion? And if every object of sense and of consci- 
ousness is ascertained by reasoning, is deduced from 
something previously known — how did we acquire the 
knowledge from which it is deduced? Let this ques- 
tion be put in infinitum; and what answer can be given 
to it, on Lord Brougham's theory? There must be a 

*Note, — As it would embarrass us by the number of notes, 
to notice every application of the logical and psychological prin- 
ciples in this criticism, we will merely direct attention to this in- 
stance, and leave the other instances to the reader's own obser- 
vation. See page 54, 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 135 

beginning some where; and this rebuts the presump- 
tion that all our knowledge is ascertained by reasoning. 
The truth is, Lord Brougham's discourse is replete 
with logical blunders; and he contradicts himself over 
and over again, and evinces the greatest looseness and 
confusion of opinion in regard to the general doctrines 
of logic. For example: — on page 39, he says — "The 
consciousness of existence, the perpetual sense that we 
are thinking, and that we are performing the operation 
quite independently of all material objects, proves to 
us the existence of a being different from our bodies, 
with a degree of evidence higher than any we can 
have for the existence of those bodies themselves, or of 
any other part of the material world." How can this 
sentence be reconciled with the doctrine before ad- 
vanced, that the existence of our mind is ascertained 
by reasoning? Is it not emphatically asserted here, 
that its existence is ascertained by consciousness, "The 
perpetual sense that we are thinking?" And on page 
41, in discoursing of the faculties of the mind, he says 
— ''Among the most remarkable of these, is the power 
of reasoning, or first comparing ideas and drawing con- 
clusions from the comparison, and then comparing to- 
gether these conclusions or judgements." Is not this de- 
finition of reasoning, altogether inconsistent with the hy- 
pothesis that all comparison is reasoning? which is as- 
sumed as the basis of all the logical doctrines advan- 
ced in the first section of the discourse; though we are 
sure it was assumed inadvertently: yet without this as- 
sumption, the doctrines have not even the semblance 
of plausibility, and even with it they are altogether 
untenable; because it would then be necessary to as- 



136 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY, 

sume, that inevery act of perception and consciousness, 
there is comparison; which is preposterous. There 
are many other logical errors in the discourse, such as 
confounding induction with reasoning: but our limits 
will not permit us to make quotations in proof of this 
point. 

We think that it is now apparent, that Lord Brough- 
am was in error when he assumed that all the evidences 
of natural theology are deductive; for they are evident- 
ly of both kinds — some intuitive and some deductive^ 
just as in all other inductive sciences. In other words, 
some of its evidences rest upon perception and consci- 
ousness and some upon reasoning. It is impossible to 
distinguish what items of evidence or knowledge are 
ascertained by perception and consciousness, and what 
by reasoning in every instance; yet it is easy to draw 
a line of difference between them by general definition; 
for every one knows that they differ widely from each 
other. It is therefore impossible, and we do not think 
that it is desirable, (for it is the case of every other 
inductive science) to show what amount of the evi- 
dence of natural theology, is founded upon perception 
and consciousness, and what amount upon reasoning. 
All that is requisite (if it be requisite at all to consider 
its evidences in this division) is to show in a general 
way that some of its evidences are founded upon the 
one, and some upon the other; and this is so easily 
done, and we conceive it to be of so little importance, 
that we will not make a particular topic of it; but will 
merely ask the reader to bear the matter in mind as 
he passes over the sequel of this part of our discourse. 

Let us return to the proposition with which we set 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 137 

out, that natural theology is a branch of the inductive 
philosophy; and is founded upon the same sort of evi- 
dence, as that upon which natural philosophy and meta- 
physics are based; which it is the object of this part of 
our discourse to establish, and which it was also the ob- 
ject of Lord Brougham's discourse to establish. The 
same error which pervades the first section, which is 
the portion of the discourse that we have been consid- 
ering, runs through all the other sections; and super- 
added to this, there is in the second and third sections 
a continual dodging of the chief difficulty which the dis- 
course was designed to remove — the difficulty of "ex- 
plaining'' as the author says on page 10,. "the nature 
of the evidence upon which it (natural theology) rests 
— of showing that it is a science the truths of which 
are discovered by induction, like the truths of natural 
and moral philosophy — that it is a branch of science 
partaking of the nature of each of those great di- 
visions of human knowledge, and not merely closely 
allied to them both:'' all this will appear as we proceed. 
We will therefore endeavor to establish the proposi- 
tion with which we set out, by meeting the difficulties, 
which our author shunned; and will at the same time, 
show how he has shunned them, and thus point out 
the defects in his discourse, while we supply them, or 
by pointing out in what they consist , show how they 
may be supplied. 

Natural theology branches off into two paths of in- 
quiry concurrently, or rather identically with natural 
philosophy and metaphysics; for in inquiring into the 
structure and relations of the physical and spiritual 
worlds, which are respectively, the objects of natural 
12* 



IBB THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHT. 

philosophy and metaphysics, the evidences of their ori- 
gin and destiny which are the objects of natural theo- 
logy, are necessarily revealed to uf, and forced upon 
our attention. In our inquiries into the physical and 
spiritual worlds, we cannot hut observe the evidences 
of design displayed in them: in other words ? when we 
are studying natural philosophy and metaphysics,, the 
evidences of natural theology lie in our path at every 
step — we behold the footsteps of God imprinted on 
every pait of these domains of inquiry. "The same 
induction of facts," says Lord Brougham, "which leads 
us to a knowledge of the structure of the eye and its 
functions in the animal economy, leads us to the know! * 
edgQ of its adaptation to the properties of light. It is 
a truth in physics, in the strictest sense of the word ? 
that vision is performed by the eye refracting lights 
and making it converge to a focus on the retina; and 
that the peculiar combination of its lenses, and the dif- 
ferent materials they are composed of, correct the in- 
distinctness which would otherwise arise from the dif- 
ferent refrangibility of light: in other words, make the 
eye an achromatic instrument. But if this is not also 
a truth in natural theology, it is a position from which^ 
by the shortest possible process of reasoning,jWe arrive 
at a theological truth — namely, that the instrument so 
successfully performing a given service by means of 
this curious structure, must have been formed with a 
knowledge of the properties of light/* We have made 
this quotation both for the purpose of illustrating our 
position, and at the same time pointing out the defect, 
which runs through the whole discourse, of dodging the 
real difficulty, as is done in this quotation; for this may 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 139 

be taken as a favourable sample of the instances in 
which the author explains the mental transition from 
the apprehension of a truth in natural philosophy, to 
the apprehension of a truth in natural theology. In 
no instance, has he explained it more accurately; for 
in many instances, he leaps the chasm which separates 
the truths of the two sciences, or bridges it over with 
a mere assertion; and thus passes by the very point to 
be proved. For example: he concludes the very par- 
agraph, which we are now considering, thus— "These 
things are truths in both physics and theology; they 
are truths taught by the selfsame process of investiga- 
tion, and resting upon the self-same kind of evidence." 
This conclusion is preceded by no analysis indicating 
its truth: but merely by statements of facts in natural 
philosophy relative to the laws of light and their adap- 
tation to the structure of the eye. So again, on page 
51, after citing many examples of design in the psy* 
chological world, when he comes to prove that the the- 
ological doctrine inferrable from the examples, rests 
upon the same sort of evidence, as that upon which 
intellectual and natural science rests, he passes over 
the very point to be proved by this assertion — ''The 
kind of evidence is not like, but identical with, that by 
which we conduct all the investigations of intellectual 
and of natural science." But to return, from this ex- 
position, to the quotation above. — The proposition, 
"that the eye is an achromatic instrument," is certain- 
ly not a truth in natural theology; though it is evidence 
which proves a truth in natural theology — that it was 
made by an intelligent agent. For it is one thing to 
inquire into the uses of an object, and another to in- 



140 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

quire into its origin — whether it was manufactured or 
not? One thing, to inquire into the structure of a 
watch, and another to inquire whether it was manu- 
factured or produced spontaneously — to inquire into 
the use of a thing, and whether it was designed and 
fabricated for that use. But is the proposition, ''that 
the eye is an achromatic instrument, a position from 
which by the shortest possible process of reasoning, we 
arrive at a theological truth"? May we not arrive at 
the doctrine, that the e) 7 e was made by an intelligent 
agent, simultaneously with the discovery that the eye 
is an achromatic instrument? Is not evidence of both 
truths revealed at the same time? Or are not both 
truths, different convictions produced by the same ev- 
idence, owing to different views of it? For example: 
— in inquiring into the functions of the eye on mechan- 
ical principles, with a view to ascertain what mechan- 
ical design it evinces, the only evidence of design, 
would be its round form, which makes it move more 
easily in the socket, so as to enable us to look about more 
readily; and the eye lids, which serve as a protection, 
and for the purpose of shutting up the eye, to prevent 
us from seeing when we desire to sleep. And these 
would be all the evidences of design, which optics 
would afford one acquainted with mechanics and ana- 
tomy, but ignorant of the laws of light. And thus 
stood the evidences of natural theology afforded by 
optics, until Sir Isaac Newton discovered the different 
refrangibility of the different rays of light. This dis- 
covery in natural science, now enabled us to discover 
the design of the other peculiar conformation of the eye 
— that its lenses refract light and make it converge to 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 141 

a focus, and paint an image on the retina. Here, then, 
as optics progress, other evidences of design are reveal- 
ed; and natural theology keeps pace with optics. Still 
our knowledge of optics is imperfect. Mr. Dolland 
discovers another law of nature — the dispersive pow- 
ers of different substances; and this enables us to ascer- 
tain that the peculiar materials which the lenses of the 
eye are composed of, correct the indistinctness of vision , 
that would otherwise be produced by the different re- 
frangibility of the different rays of light: and thus an- 
other adaptation ot means to an end, is discovered; 
and the evidences of natural theology evinced by the 
human eye are complete. The science of optics is 
now investigated in reference to comparative anatomy; 
and it is here discovered, that the conformation of the 
.eye is varied to suit, the different necessities of each an- 
imal. If the animal prowls by night, the conformation of 
the eye is such as to enable him to see in the dark: if he 
be amphibious, his eye is formed so as to suit the vision 
to the mediums of both air and water: if he be ac- 
quatic, his eye is constructed wholly with reference 
to the adaptation of light to water; and this change of 
conformation to diversity of circumstances, is seen 
throughout the whole science of comparative anatomy. 
In this investigation, it is perfectly obvious, that the 
truths of natural theology were revealed to us simul- 
taneously with the truths in optics; for the truths of 
optics are the evidences of the truths of natural theo- 
logy. In fact, the very idea of contrivance involves the 
idea of a contriver; and it may be doubted, whether 
in the acquisition of knowledge, the idea of contri- 
ver or agent, is not first in chronological order: it cer* 



142 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY* 

tainly is, if either be prior. It is also obvious, that the 
process of investigation is the same in optics and nat- 
ural theology; for truths in both sciences were discov- 
ered in the same investigation; just as anatomical truths, 
and the truth of the different refrangibility of the rays 
of light, and the truth of the refractive powers of dif- 
ferent substances, and of the dispersive powers of 
of substances, also, might have been discovered in 
the same process of investigation. All these various 
truths belonging to different sciences, may be discov- 
ered by the self-same inductive process; just as in an 
analysis of any complex phenomenon, truths belonging 
to different sciences are always discovered, in the re- 
solution of such a phenomenon into its several causes. 
The process of investigation in natural theology, is just 
as obviously inductive, as that in physical science. — - 
For example — one instance of adaptation of means to 
ends, is discovered, and another, and another, until the 
observer is forced by the laws of his mind, to believe, 
that so many contrivances adjusted so nicely for bring- 
ing about certain ends, must have been fabricated for 
the purpose, by some agent of knowledge competent to 
the task. 

It is manifest, then, that the evidence of natural 
theology is of precisely the same character, as that on 
which natural philosophy rests; and like all other evi- 
dence, produces conviction when contemplated inde- 
pendently of our volition. Its evidences cannot be 
comprehended, without our being persuaded of its 
truths. That some have not been persuaded of its 
truths, though they have understood the evidences, or 
perceived the designs, does not result from the fact that 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 143 

the evidences had no tendency to convince them; but 
because preconceived opinions overruled or counterac- 
ted the force of these evidences: so that their opinion* 
do not result from any inherent defect in the testimony 
any more than the inefficiency of medicines in some, 
cases, does not result from the defect of the medicines 
but from the condition of the patients. The instant 
we discover contrivance, adaptation of means to ends, 
in any part of creation, whether in the physical or 
spiritual worlds, we are irresistibly led to infer an in- 
telligent artificer. Who, for instance, can read the 
Bridgewater Treatises, and contemplate the innumera- 
ble instances of contrivance, adaptations of means to 
ends, order, and harmony, there collected, and not be 
convinced that such innumerable arrangements so con- 
ducive to purposes, and so certainly accomplishing 
them, and in many instances accomplishing them by 
such a number and variety of means changed to suit a 
change of circumstances, all working to accomplish 
particular purposes which are important in themselves, 
and yet, by the harmony of their action accomplishing 
with unerring certainty, and in some instances, at such 
long and regular intervals of time, the main purpose 
of all the arrangements combined, must have been 
made by design; and that an agent exists capable of 
contriving the whole— of conceiving the purposes, and 
adapting the means, and adjusting them so nicely, for 
executing these purposes? A much more limited in- 
duction of instances of any other class, would convince 
any one, of any truth in physical science. The mosl 
cautious philosophers are continually inferring physi- 
cal causes from a much more limited induction of facts. 



144 the Baconian Philosophy. 

We have, then, the same kind, if not the same degree 
of evidence, and we will say the same degree, for be* 
lieving in the existence of an intelligent first cause or 
agent, as we have for believing in the existence of 
gravity or any other physical cause. The evidence of 
the one is just as obvious as that of the other — shines 
with as bright a light from every part of creation. — 
Why, then, should it not strike home upon the mind, 
as strong a conviction of the peculiar doctrines which 
it teaches? Is it because we infer an invisible agent, 
from sensible phenomena? But may not this question 
return upon him, who asks it, to know whether we do 
not continually infer invisible physical causes from sen- 
sible phenomena? Will it be said that the existence 
of an intelligent artificer, cannot be proved by contri- 
vances, adaptations of means to ends, order, and har- 
mony, just as the existence of a physical cause, can be 
proved by the motions and changes around us? It cer- 
tainly can; and the grounds, upon which the proofs in 
both instances rest, will be pointed out in the sequel, 
in treating of causation in connection with Mr. Hume's 



'& 



Essay. 

We will not consider the branch of natural theology, 
which runs identically with metaphysics, as the re- 
marks upon the branch, which we have considered, 
can be easily applied to this branch; and as the defects 
in Lord Brougham's Discourse, are precisely the same 
in both branches, and therefore need not be pointed 
out in this branch. 

As we have now examined the nature of the evi- 
dence on which natural theology rests, we will next 
endeavour to point out its exact place among the sci- 



^*AE BACONIAN PHILOSOPltt* 145 

^-aces, and its precise relations to them. And this, we 
think, cannot be done better, than by showing what 
Lord Bacon has said on the subject; especially too, as 
we shall thereby vindicate the opinion of this great 
man on this subject, from the idle censures of blunder- 
ing ignorance, or the wilful perversions of envious de- 
traction endeavouring to cover over Lord Bacon's opin- 
ions, in order that it may gain the credit of having first 
discovered the proper place of natural theology among 
the sciences; when, in fact, all that they have said 
truly on the subject, was said in a general way by Ba- 
con, and whenever they have refused to follow this il- 
lustrious guide, they have gone astray from the truth. 

Lord Bacon, in his Advancement of Learning, after 
speaking of history and poetry, says.- — -"The knowledge 
of man is as the waters, some descending from above, 
and some springing from beneath; the one informed 
by the light of nature, the other inspired by divine 
revelation. — So then according to these two differing 
illuminations or originals, knowledge is first of all di- 
vided into divinity and philosophy." 

xt In philosophy, the contemplations of man do either 
penetrate unto God, — or are circumf erred to nature, — 
or are reflected or reverted upon himself. Out of 
which several inquiries, there do arise three knowl- 
edges, divine philosophy, natural philosophy, and hu- 
man philosophy or humanity." — page 131, Basil Mon- 
tague's edition. 

"And as concerning divine philosophy or natural 
theology, it is that knowledge or rudiment of knowl- 
edge concerning God, which may be obtained by the 
contemplation of his creatures; which knowledge may 
13 



146 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

be truly termed divine, in respect of the object, and 
natural, in respect of the light. — For as all works do 
show forth the power and skill of the workman; so it 
is of the works of God, which do show the omnipo- 
tency and wisdom of the maker. Wherefore by the 
contemplation of nature, to induce and enforce the 
acknowledgment of God, and to demonstrate his pow- 
er, providence and goodness, is an excellent argumentf 
and hath been excellently handled by divers." — pages 
135—6. 

"Natural science or theory (natural philosophy) is 
divided into physique and metaphysique: wherein I 
desire, it may be conceived that I use the word meta- 
physique in a differing sense from that, that is receiv- 
ed: and in like manner, I doubt not it will easily ap- 
pear to men of judgment, that in this and other partic- 
ulars wheresoever my conception and notion may dif- 
fer from the ancient, yet I am studious to keep ancient 
terms. To return, therefore, to the use and accepta- 
tion of the term metaphysique as I now understand the 
word. It appeareth likewise, that natural theology, 
which heretofore hath been handled confusedly with 
metaphysique, I have enclosed and bounded by itself. 
It is, therefore, now a question, what is left remaining 
for metaphysique; wherein I may without prejudice 
preserve thus much of the ancient of antiquity, that 
physique should contemplate that which is inherent in 
matter, and therefore transitory; and metaphysique 
should handle that which supposes further in nature a 
reason, understanding and platform — the one part 
which is physique, inquireth and handleth the material 
and efficient causes; and the other which is metapby- 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 147 

sique handleth the formal and final causes." — pages 
141—2. 

"For metaphysique, we have assigned unto it, the 
inquiry of formal and final causes." — page 144. Lord 
Bacon then proceeds to inquire into formal causes, by 
which he means causes of a higher degree than physi- 
cal causes, in his meaning of this latter term, and 
then proceeds to the second part of metaphysique. 

"The second part of metaphysique, is the inquiry 
of final causes, which I am moved to report not as 
omitted, but as misplaced; and yet if it were but a fault 
in-order, I would not speak of it; for order is matter of 
illustration, but pertaineth not to the substance of sci- 
ences. But this misplacing hath caused a deficience 
or at least a great improficience in the sciences them- 
selves. For the handling of final causes, mixed with 
the rest in physical inquiries, hath intercepted the se- 
vere and diligent inquiry of all real and physical 
causes, and given men occasion to stay upon these sat- 
isfactory and specious causes, to the great arrest and 
prejudice of further discovery. — Not because those final 
causes are not true, and worthy to be inquired, being 
kept within their own province; but because their ex- 
cursions into the limits of physical causes, has bred a 
vastness and solitude in that track. For otherwise 
keeping their precincts and borders, men are extreme- 
ly deceived, if they think there is an enmity or re- 
pugnancy at all between them. For the cause render- 
ed that the hairs about the eye-lids are for a safe- 
guard of the sight, doth not impugn the cause render- 
ed, that pilosity is incident to orifices of moisture; and 
go of the rest; both causes being true and compatible, 



14S THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHf. 

the one declaring an intention, the other a consequence 
only."— pages 148—150. 

It will be seen by these extracts,, that Bacon first di- 
vides knowledge into divinity (revelation) and philo- 
sophy. He then proceeds to consider philosophy; and 
divides it into three parts 7 divine philosophy or natural 
theology ^natural philosophy and human philosophy » As- 
*he first in order, he then treats of natural theology, and 
says with great sagacity? that it C4 may be truly termed 
divine in respect of the object, and natural in respect 
of the light;" that is, the subject of which it treats, is 
divine, but the evidence on which it rests is natural^ 
or founded on the constitution of nature; the very doc- 
trine which Lord Brougham's whole treatise was de- 
signed to establish. He next proceeds to the consid- 
eration of natural philosophy, and divides it into phy- 
sique and metaphysique; and defines the province of, 
physique to be the inquiry into physical causes; and 
after treating of this branch of natural philosophy at 
some length, he proceeds to the other branch, which 
he calls metaphysique; and we bespeak the particular 
attention of our readers to this branch of Bacon's di- 
vision of natural philosophy, asking them to bear con- 
stantly in mind, the sense in which he uses the term, 
as a part of natural philosophy? and not according to 
its present acceptation, the science which treats of 
mind. 

Bacon defines metaphysique, to be that part of natur- 
al philosophy which inquires into formal and final cau- 
ses. After treating of formal causes, by which he means 
causes of a higher degree than physical causes, in hi$ 
sense of this latter term, he proceeds to consider final 



*HE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 149 

causes. The term final causes, he uses in its common 
acceptation, the designs manifested in creation, "that 
the hairs about the eye-lids are for a safe-guard of the 
sight; that the firmness of hides is for the armor of the 
body against the extremities of heat or cold, declaring 
an intention and not a consequence only." He then, 
in order to do away the evils which had resulted to 
philosophy, from considering final causes confusedly 
with physical causes, "for the handling of final causes 
mixed with the rest in physical inquiries, had inter- 
cepted the severe and diligent inquiry of all real and 
physical causes," has divided natural philosophy into 
two parts, physique and metaphysique, in order to sep- 
arate the two kinds of causes, and to prevent final 
causes from being considered to the exclusion of phy- 
sical causes. However useless such a division may be 
at this advanced stage of science, it was necessary at 
the time Bacon wrote; for the consideration of final 
causes, had led men from the consideration of physical 
causes — "had given them occasion to stay upon these 
satisfactory and specious causes, to the great arrest and 
prejudice of further discovery. u Tosay," says Bacon 
"that the hairs of the eye-lids are for a quick-set and a 
fence about the sight; or that the firmness of the 
skins and hides of living creatures is to defend them 
from the extremities of heat or cold, is well inquired 
and collected in metaphysique: but in physique they 
are impertinent. — Not because those final causes are 
not true and worthy to be inquired, being kept within 
their own province (metaphysique); but because their 
excursions into the limits of physical causes hath bred 
a vastness and solitude in that track." Bacon there- 
13* 



15$ THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

fore, considered final causes as a part of the evidence 
on which natural philosophy rests; and very wisely 
too; for some great discoveries in natural philosophy 
have been made by the light of final causes. For ex- 
ample: — the discovery of the circulation of the blood 
was ascertained by the consideration of final causes; as 
also were the two sets of nerves. And indeed without 
the evidence of final causes, little progress would have 
been made in anatomy; for it is by considering the sup- 
posed functions of the different parts of the human 
system, that its exact anatomy is ascertained; as is 
evinced by the minute and useful anatomical researches^ 
the supposed functions of the liyer, the colon and other 
intestines are leading to, in the structure of these or- 
gans; while at the same time, the structure of these 
organs is aiding in ascertaining their functions; and all 
these again, conducting to a knowledge of correct pa- 
thology. And we find that Mr. Locke has used an 
argument founded upon final causes (the uses of the 
faculties) against the doctrine of innate ideas, thus 
making final causes evidences in intellectual philoso- 
phy. "For any one will easily grant, v says he, "that 
it would be impertinent to suppose the ideas of colours 
innate in a creature, to whom God has given sight and 
a power to receive them by the eyes from external ob- 
jects: and no less unreasonable would it be to attribute 
several truths to the impressions of nature and innate 
characters, when we may observe in ourselves faculties 
fit to attain as easy and certain knowledge of them, as 
if they were originally imprinted on the mind." 1st 
vol. 16 chap. 2d. b. 

We see then, that Bacon makes final causes evidence 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 161 

in natural philosophy that part of it embraced in the 
division which he calls metaphjsique. Now natural 
theology also, rests entirely upon the evidence of final 
causes, the contrivances and adaptations ot means to 
ends manifested in creation; and therefore Lord Bacon 
lias with great sagacity, distinguished the use of final 
causes as evidence in natural philosophy, by bounding 
natural theology to itself. "Natural theology," says 
Bacon, "which heretofore hath been handled confused- 
ly with metaphysique (his sense of the term) I have 
bounded by itself." Before Bacon's time, men had, 
in handling final causes considered them as evidence in 
both natural philosophy and natural theology in one and 
the same treatise; thus confounding the two sciences to- 
gether, and retarding the progress of both. At one mo- 
ment they would in the same inquiry, consider the the- 
ological doctrine based upon final causes, and at the 
next moment, consider the philosophical doctrine based 
upon them; to the utter confusion of all connected 
thought and definite inquiry. Bacon then, considers 
final causes in two points of view — first as evidence in 
natural theology; and secondly, as evidence in natural 
philosophy. We believe that every writer on natural 
theology, has overlooked the fact that Bacon, has made 
this twofold division of the enquiry into final causes.- 
This oversight has arisen from the fact, that Bacon 
does not use the term final causes, when he speaks of 
natural theology; and also from the fact, that he uses 
the term metaphysique in a different sense from its 
present acceptation. And all writers who have quo- 
ted the concluding remarks on metaphysique, "not be- 
cawse those final causes are not true and worthy to be 



152 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

inquired, being kept within their own province,'' have 
supposed that Bacon meant, natural theology, by "their 
own province;" whereas the whole tenor of the argu- 
ment shows, that he means, that part of natural philo- 
sophy, which he calls metaphysique. He is showing 
that final causes have not been kept within the prov- 
ince of metaphysique; but have been considered con- 
fusedly with physical causes— "that their excursions 
into the limits of physical causes, hath bred a vastness 
and solitude in that tract. For otherwise, keeping 
their precincts and borders (metaphysique) men are 
extremely deceived, if they think, there is an enmity 
or repugnancy at all between them-," that is between 
physical causes and final causes, both as- evidence in 
natural philosophy: and this is the more obvious, as 
Bacon never applies the term final causes to the con- 
trivances of nature, when considered as evidence in 
natural theology, but only when considered as evidence 
in natural philosophy; thus affording evidence of the 
maturity and precision of his reflections upon this 
point. Let any one read Bacon's writings with this, 
view of his doctrines in regard to fiual causes, and the 
occasional remarks which appear to disparage the in- 
quiry into final causes, can be easily reconciled with the 
doctrines so deliberately expressed in the Advancement 
of learning. 

It is manifest that Lord Bacon considered natural 
theology a branch of the inductive philosophy, based 
upon the same sort of evidence, as that upon which 
natural philosophy and metaphysics rest, "it being 
natural in respect of the light, though divine in respect 
of the objt ct" He makes it a br?nch of philosophy 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 153 

because its evidence is founded in nature; not a branch 
of divinity, its evidence being derived from revelation. 
<4 The knowledge of man" says he, "is as the waters, 
some descending from above, and some springing from 
beneath; the one is informed by the light of nature, the 
other inspired by divine revelation. — So according to" 
these two different illuminations or originals (different 
sorts of evidence) knowledge is first of all, divided in- 
to divinity and philosophy." Now, has not Bacon 
defined the place of natural theology among the sci- 
ences, and pointed out its relations to them, with at 
least as much precision as Lord Brougham? Why, 
then, does Lord Brougham write his whole discourse, 
as though he claimed the merit of assigning to natural 
theology, its true place among the sciences? It is 
true, that one section of the discourse, is taken up 
with the consideration of what Bacon had said upon 
the subject; but after quoting detached remarks of 
Bacon upon final causes, which were not spoken 
in reference to natural theology at all; and expressing 
many misapprehensions of Bacon's meaning, he con- 
cludes, that on the whole, "when rightly examined, 
then, the authority of Lord Bacon appears not to op- 
pose the doctrine which we are seeking to illustrate." 
''Appears not to oppose"!! So then all that the noble 
author could see, in the elaborate care, and extreme 
precision, with which Bacon has defined the bounda- 
ries of natural theology, and indicated the nature of the 
evidence on which it rests (for he has been as careful 
about natural theology, in this respect, as about any 
other science), is that he appears not to oppose the sci- 
ence of natural theology. Is this ignorance? or is it 



154 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

wilful perversion, desiring to establish his own claim 
to the merit of discovering the place which natural 
theology holds among the sciences? This Olympic 
Jupiter of British criticism, has no right to complain 
of t'ne severity of our strictures; for he has been for the 
last twenty years continually hurling his bolts, without 
the least mercy, upon authors in every department of 
literature; and while we have pointed out the errors 
which more than disfigure his discourse, we here gladly 
acknowledge, that it throws the light of much learn- 
ing, upon the subject of natural theology, and contains 
some specimens of fine writing, that entitle its author, 
to stand in the very first rank of the great masters of 
diction. 

As we have shown, that natural theology is a branch 
of inductive philosophy, and is based upon the same 
sort of evidence, as that upon which natural philosophy 
and metaphysics repose, we will next proceed to com- 
bat the objections which have been urged against it, 
and to point out the chief source of the error of the 
objections; and in doing this, to extend our inquiry 
still further into the evidences of natural theology 
until we trace them up to the very origin of the main 
idea on which the whole science rests. 

Many philosophers, and amongst them, Descartes 
and Leibnitz, men of immense genius, and of vast at- 
tainments in every department of knowledge, have de- 
cried final causes, as unworthy to be admitted within 
the circle of legitimate philosophical evidence. La 
Place, too, one of the most illustriousnames of modern 
times, has rejected final causes from philosophy. "Let 
us run over," sats he, "the history of the progress of 



*HE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 155 

the human mind and its errors: we shall perpetually 
gee final causes pushed away to the bounds of knowl- 
edge. The causes which Newton removed to the 
limits of the solar system, were long ago employed in 
explaining meteors. They are therefore, in the eyes 
of the philosopher, nothing more than the expression 
of the ignorance in which we are of most real causes." 
But so far as authority goes, it is decidedly favourable 
to the evidences of final causes. To say nothing of the 
many distinguished writers of the present day, we can 
point to the father of inductive philosophy, to Coperni- 
cus, to Kepler, and to the great genius of the human 
race, the man who had drunk deeper into the fountains 
of true philosophy, than any one who ever lived, as 
having borne their testimony in their favour. After 
Newton had passed on his sublime career, from planet 
to planet, and from system to system, until he had 
stepped from the golden ladder of geometry upon the 
remotest star; when he looked down and saw how far 
he was above the highest point to which any other 
philosopher had ever climbed, if he had excluded final 
causes from his philosophy, he would have supposed 
himself upon the very summit of science, and would 
have exclaimed, "there is no God; for if there were, 
here would be his dwelling place;" and this atheistic 
declaration would have been the conclusion of the im- 
mortal Principia. But in the spirit of the true philo- 
sophy, Newton directed his eye still upwards, and by 
the light of final causes, saw the heights of inductive 
science towering still far above him, and stretching on 
to the throne of an intelligent Creator; and then, with 
the same confidence in which he had written the other 



156 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

great truths of nature, he penned his "General Scholi- 
um," declaring there is a God, and made it, the sub- 
lime conclusion of his immortal labours. 

We think, that much, if not all the error relative to 
natural theology, has originated in the use of the term, 
«'final causes.'' The use of this term has led to 
great confusion of ideas in regard to causation, and 
has also led men to confound an intelligent Creator s 
with a mere physical cause — to thrust a mere mechan- 
ical cause into jthe place of God. Mr. Hume in his 
6t Essay on a particular Providence and a Future State," 
from the beginning to the end of his argument, con- 
founds an intelligent Creator, with a mere physical 
cause; and as soon as this is perceived, the fallacy of 
his argument becomes manifest. This argument of Mr. 
Hume, is the great bulwark of atheism; "and we may 
the rather conclude/' says Lord Brougham, "that it 
is not very easily answered, because, in fact, it has 
rarely, if ever, been encountered by writers on theo- 
logical subjects." We will, therefore, expose what ap- 
pears to be the chief error of this argument; as we be- 
lieve that the same error lies at the bottom of all ob- 
jections to natural theology. 

The Collocutor (who speaks Mr. Hume's senti- 
ments,) says — you then, who are my accusers have 
acknowledged, that the chief, or sole argument for a 
divine existence (which I never questioned,) is deriv- 
ed from the order of nature; where there appear such 
marks of intelligence and design, that you think it ex- 
travagant to assign for its cause, either chance, or the 
blind and unguided force of matter. You allow that 
this is an argument drawn from effects to causes. — ■ 



THE BACOKIAK PHILOSOPHY. 157 

When we infer any particular cause from an effect, we 
must proportion the one to the other, and can never 
be allowed to ascribe to the cause any qualities but 
what are sufficient to produce the effect. — The same 
rule holds, whether the cause assigned, be brute un- 
conscious matter or rational intelligent being. If the 
cause be known only by the effect, we ought not to 
ascribe to it any qualities beyond what are precisely 
requisite to produce the effect — nor can we by any 
rules of just reasoning return back from the cause, and 
infer other effects from it, beyond those, by which alone 
it is known to us. No one merely from the sight of 
one of Zeuxis's pictures could know, that he was also 
a statuary or an architect, was an artist no less skilful 
in stone and marble than in colours. Allowing, there- 
fore, the Gods to be the authors of the existence or or- 
der of the universe; it follows that they possess that 
precise degree of power, intelligence, and benevolence, 
which appears in their workmanship; but nothing far- 
ther can be proved, except we call in the assistance 
of exaggeration and flattery, to supply the defects of 
arguments and reasoning.'' 

We perceive that in this argument, God is express- 
ly and designedly likened to, and confounded with 
any physical cause, and that the one is reasoned from 
to the other, and the whole argument throughout all 
its parts is conducted upon the supposition that there 
is no difference, "whether the cause assigned, be brute 
unconscious matter, or rational intelligent being;" and 
all the doctrine advanced by Mr. Hume, can be sus- 
tained upon this supposition only. But is it not obvi- 
ous to the plainest understanding, that there is a wide 
14 



158 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

difference between a mere physical cause, and an in- 
telligent Creator? What is a physical cause? It is an 
event or fact, which constantly precedes another in 
nature. For example: heat always precedes ignition 
in a body; and when we meet with a burnt stick, we 
therefore assign heat as the cause of the ignition. — 
What we mean then, by causation in the physical world, 
is nothing more, so far as our knowledge extends, 
than the constant conjunction or succession of two 
events or facts. We do not know, whether the cause, 
or antecedent fact, does contain an operative principle 
which produces the effect or sequent fact, or not; for 
we can readily conceive that this conjunction or suc- 
cession might have been otherwise — that fire might 
freeze, instead of burn; at least such a supposition in- 
volves no contradiction in thought, and therefore ap- 
pears to be within the limits of possibility. And in 
inferring a cause from an effect, we must not infer one 
more than adequate to produce the effect. And in the 
progress of science, causes are continually being re- 
solved into other causes, these again into causes still 
more remote; and as causes thus become effects, or in 
truth, their real character is thus ascertained to be noth- 
ing more than facts standing in constant conjunction 
or succession with other facts in the order of nature, 
as A stands before B, in the alphabet, and that it might 
have been otherwise. Such, then, is a physical cause; 
and that it is such, Mr. Hume is one of the most stren- 
uous advocates; and then of course, it must be to such 
an idea of a physical cause, that he likens the Creator 
throughout his argument. 

Now, to clothe the Creator with the attributes of 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 159 

& physical cause; and to limit r his operations to the 
mere works which he has already made, as we limit a 
cause, to its known effects, is most preposterous. — 
There is no analogical or deductive connection be- 
tween them, upon which either an inference or an ar- 
gument from the one to the other, can be based. Mr, 
Hume has entirely misconceived the argument for the 
existence of a Divine being. It is not based upon the 
doctrine of cause and effect as exhibited in the physical 
world, at all (which will be more clearly shown in the 
sequel, when we treat of the origin of the idea of cau- 
sation); but is based upon the contrivances indicative 
of design, which appear in every part of the universe, 
to which the term, "final causes," has been very im- 
properly applied; thus extending the idea of causation, 
to a case in which it does not apply in its ordinary sig- 
nification. We can never infer the existence of an 
intelligent being or agent, from the mere antecedence 
and sequence of facts or phenomena, however constant 
it may be; for there is nothing in this, that evinces in- 
telligence. The mere fact that fire burns, or that cold 
freezes, can not give us the least ground for inferring 
the existence of an intelligent agent. But it is by ob- 
serving the contrivances, the adaptations of means to 
ends, by which certain results are brought about, dis- 
played in the universs, that leads us to infer the exis- 
tence of an intelligent agent, who designed and fabri- 
cated them. And why do we draw this inference? — 
Because contrivances, and adaptations of means to 
ends are marks of intelligence. But how do we know, 
that they are marks of intelligence? By observing the 
works of men. But how do we know that the works 



160 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY 

of men evince intelligence? By a knowledge derived 
from consciousness of the exercise of intelligence by 
ourselves in conceiving designs and executing them by 
contrivances and adaptations of means to ends. We 
therefore, arrive at the knowledge of the Creator, (his 
existence being implied in such knowledge,) in the 
same manner, that we arrive at the knowledge of men 
— by comparing his works with our own* If we- see 
a watch for the first time, we know that it was made 
by an intelligent being, though we never saw one fab- 
ricated. So if we see an animal with all its admirable 
contrivances, we know that it must be the work of an 
intelligent being also; because both equally evince de- 
sign and intelligence; and experience, as well as an 
original principle of our minds compel us to ascribe 
both to a similar cause or agent, as they both have the 
appearance of a manufactured article, This is an act 
of ordinary induction of two facts under one class or 
principle. We look at the facts or phenomena in one 
point of view only— that of design; and this is the 
point we generalise. The difference in the facts, 
whether in the excellence of workmanship, in the ma- 
terial, or in the particular objects of the contrivances, 
cannot affect the justness of the classification; for this 
difference has nothing to do logically, with the point 
generalised. This is a well established inductive prin- 
ciple, upon which we are continually acting in the or- 
dinary affairs of life, as well as in philosophical pur- 
suits. We have thus by the strictest induction brought 
God and man under one class — that of intelligent be- 
ings or agents; and of course, we can reason from the 
one to the other, to the full extent of that classification; 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 1B1 

and we will show in the sequel, that on this ground 
the evidences of natural theology are impregnable. 

"We can never return back," says Mr. Hume, 
"from a cause and inler other effects from it, than those 
by which it is already known to us." This, we appre- 
hend, cannot be said of man as an intelligent agent. — 
Could we not justly argue or inter that the artificer 
could make another watch, or that Zeuxis could paint 
another picture? It is impossible for us to think oth- 
erwise. The very same reasons will compel us to in- 
fer that God or the intelligent agent, who made the an- 
imal, could make another. If it be denied that Mr. 
Hume's argument goes to this extent, (though we as- 
sert that it does), yet, it cannot be denied, that it goes 
the extent of denying, that God can make any thing, the 
least variant from what he has already made. Which, 
according to-'the induction we have made of God and 
man, under one class — that of intelligent agents, is vir- 
tually asserting, that because a man has made an axe, 
we have no right to suppose, that he could make a ham- 
mer; or that because he has made a boot, we have no right 
to suppose or infer that he could make a shoe; or that 
because he has made a watch or a steam engine, that 
he could make a syringe or any the most simple uten- 
sil; for if an intelligent agent be like a physical cause, 
he must be confined to his known works; and we have 
no more right to infer smaller effects from a cause, 
than those which it is know r n to produce, than we have 
to infer larger. It is true, we would not be justified 
in inferring, Zeuxis was a statuary, from the fact that 
he was a painter; neither would we be justified in in- 
ferring that he was not a statuary; for, from the na~ 
X4* 



162 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

ture of mind, we know that he might be, and a poet 
and a mathematician also; for it is the nature of mind 
to perform various operations, as the various works of 
man attest. We have proved God to be mind, or an 
intelligent being, and of course he must possess vari- 
ous powers; for a mind or intelligent being with capa- 
city to do one work only is incomprehensible; or at 
least contrary to experience and the analogies of na- 
ture. And does not the universe indicate the most 
various powers in its artificer? A perfect acquaintance 
with all science is evinced in its adaptations of means 
to ends, its laws, and its order. It is evident therefore, 
that it is unphilosophical, and indeed absurd, to limit 
the powers of God to what he has done, as we limit a 
cause to its known effect. Such a notion is contrary 
to all the analogies of mind as exhibited by men; and 
it is from observing the minds of men as manifested in 
their acts, and ultimately our own jninds, (as we 
have shown,) that we infer the nature of God; and not 
from the consideration of physical causes; to which 
God bears no analogy whatever, and from the contem- 
plation of which alone, it would be impossible ever to 
infer the existence of such a being. 

But if we push out Mr. Hume's argument a little 
further than he has done, (and we have a right to do 
it,) its erroneousness can be more clearly exhibited.— 
If we must infer that God can do more than he has al- 
ready done, we have no right to infer, that the sun will 
rise to-morrow, or that the world will continue anoth- 
er moment, or that the seasons will follow each other 
as they have done, or that the existence of any thing 
can be continued another moment; because we must 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 1(33 

limit the cause to those effects, "by which alone it is 
known to us." In reference to this point, Mr. Hume 
says — "In works of human art and contrivance, it is al- 
lowable to advance from the effect to the cause, and re- 
turning back from the cause, to form new inferences 
concerning the effect, and examine the alterations, 
which it has probably undergone, or may undergo. But 
what is the foundation of this method of reasoning? — 
Plainly this; that man is a being whom we know by 
experience, whose notions and designs we are acquain- 
ted with, and whose projects and inclinations have a 
certain connection and coherence, according- to the 
laws, which nature has established for the government 
of such a creature." Well, cannot the same be said 
of God? Mr. Hume answers, no! "The Deity is 
known'to us, only by his productions, and is a single 
being in the universe not comprehended under any 
species or genus from whose known attributes, we can 
by analogy infer any attribute or quality in him." — 
We have shown, that we have a right to draw the 
very same inferences in regard to the power of God, 
to repeat and vary his operations, that we draw in re- 
gard to man; because we brought them under the same 
classification — the same "species or genus," and can 
therefore infer by analogy the attributes and qualities 
of God from the experienced attributes or qualities of 
man. We have as much right to infer, that God can 
create other worlds, as we have to infer that man can 
make another watch or other machine. The very- 
constitution of our minds, upon the comprehension of 
the evidence, necessitates] such an inference in both 
instances. We cannot believe otherwise if we wish- 



164 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

ed to do so; for the very notion that God is an intelli- 
gent being forces such a conviction upon us. But 
does not Mr. Hume, when he admits that man can re - 
peat and vary his operations, virtually admit that God 
can do so? For it must be through the power of God 
upholding him, that man is enabled to do it; and this 
proposition Mr. Hume does not deny. Mr. Hume's 
argument goes the full length of destroying everything 
like inductive inference; and confines our knowledge 
to what is now present to our senses and consciousness 
and memory. If this narrow circle embraced all legi- 
timate knowledge, all our hopes would be blasted, by 
the most withering skepticism. 

From this train of reasoning, Mr. Hume, though he 
admits that there is a God, concludes, that we have no 
right to attribute, either omniscience or omnipotence 
to him; or suppose that he has either the power or in- 
clination to continue our existence in a future state; 
for we must limit his powers to what he has done. — 
We can not stop to show the fallacy of these conclu- 
sions; as the scope of this discourse confines us to the 
consideration of the evidences of natural theology, 
and does not permit us to consider its doctrines. 

It is obvious, that the great error of Mr. Hume's 
argument consists in confounding the Creator with a 
mere physical cause; and applying the doctrines of 
mere causation, to the creative operations of an intelli- 
gent agent. The same error is apparent in the quota- 
tion from La Place, where he says final causes are 
perpetually "pushed away to the boundaries of sci- 
ence." And the same error is the source of most, if 
not all, of the false doctrine relative to natural theology* 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 165 

As Mi*. Hume's argument relative to a particular 
providence and a future state, is intimately connected 
with his doctrine of cause and effect; and as the portion 
of his doctrine of cause and effect, which relates to the 
origin of the idea of causation or power, is radically er- 
roneous, we will examine this portion of his doctrine 
and expose its errors. 

"All reasoning concerning matters of fact," says 
Mr. Hume, "seems to be founded on the relation of 
cause and effect. By reason of this relation alone, we 
can go beyond the evidence of our memory and senses, 
If we would satisfy ourselves, therefore, concerning the 
nature of that evidence, which assures us of matters of 
fact, we must inquire how we arrive at the knowledge 
of cause and effect. The knowledge of this relation 
is attained by experience, and not by reasoning a pri- 
ori. — The principle which determines us to form a con- 
clusion from the past to the future, is custom or habit. 
And it is certain, that we here advance a very intelli- 
gent proposition at least, if not a true one, when we 
assert that after the constant conjunction of two objects, 
heat and flame, for instance, weight and solidity, we 
are determined by custom alone, to expect the one 
from the appearance of the other. All inferences, 
therefore, from experience, are effects of custom, not oi 
reasoning." 

We will commence with Mr. Hume's last proposi- 
tion; and deny, that it is custom or habit, which de- 
termines us to draw conclusions from the past to the 
future, or to infer cause from effect. On the contrary, 
we maintain, that it is an original principle of the 
mind, which is exercised from earliest infancy; though 



166 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

the exercise of it, like that of every other principle of 
the mind, is corrected by experience. This principle 
is a fundamental law of the mind, like the principles 
by which we believe in our own existence, and in the 
existence of external objects. It determines us to be- 
lieve that the future will be like the past, and that 
similar causes will produce 'similar effects. The in- 
ference is not intuitive, neither is it demonstrative, but 
we are compelled to draw it, by an original principle 
of the mind, called the fundamental law of inductive 
belief. This principle has been developed", since the 
days of Hume, by 'Dr. Reid; as we have shown in the 
second part of this discourse. We will here quote 
Mr. Hume against himself; and show that he has ad" 
mitted this very principle in some of his reasonings. ■■ — 
In a preceding chapter, where he argues that the in- 
ference from effect to cause, is not an argument, he 
says "When a child has felt the sensation of pain from 
touching the flame of a candle, he will be careful not 
to touch any candle; but will expect a similar effect, 
from a cause which is similar in its sensible qualities 
and appearances. If I be right, I pretend not to have 
made any great discovery. And if I be wrong, I must 
acknowledge myself to be indeed, a very backward 
scholar; since I cannot now discover an argument, which 
it seems was perfectly familiar to me, long before I 
was out of my cradle."- Mr. Hume, here says, that a 
child will infer that any candle will burn, because the 
one which he touched, did so. Now this inference 
surely cannot be from custom or habit; for it would be 
a strange sort of custom or habit, that is acquired by a 
child in a moment. As we do not know how old Mr. 



THE BA.CONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 167 

Hume was before he left his cradle, we cannot deter- 
mine, whether there is any contradiction in his saying, 
that he was perfectly familiar with what he calls cus- 
tom or habit, long before he was out of his cradle, and 
shall leave this point to be determined by his nurse.— 
We do not care whether Mr. Hume calls the thing 
custom or habit or by any other name, so he admits 
that the child brings it into the world with it, and ex- 
ercises it from earliest infancy, as he does admit, if he 
means anything in this last quotation. In illustration 
of his doctrine of custom or habit, he makes a suppo- 
sition of a person of the strongest faculties of reason 
and reflection, brought suddenly into the world; and 
says that such a person, "would immediately observe 
a continual succession of objects, and oue event follow 
another; but would not be able to discover any thing 
further. Such person without mere experience could 
never employ his conjecture or reasoning concerning 
any matter of fact, or be assured of any thing beyond 
his senses or memory." Here Mr. Hume says, that a 
person of the strongest faculties of reason and reflection, 
could only from experience do what a child, he admits, 
does at once, and what he was perfectly familiar with 
long before he was out of his cradle. In another place, 
speaking of the operation, by which we infer like 
causes from like effects, he says, it is not "trusted to 
the fallacious deductions of our reason. It is more 
conformable to the ordinary wisdom of nature, to se- 
cure so necessary an act of the mind by some instinct 
or mechanical contrivance, which may be infallible in 
its operations, may discover itself at the first appear- 
ance of life and thought, &c." What he here calls 



168 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

''natural instinct, which discovers itself at the first ap- 
pearance of life and thought," he before calls custom 
or habit. In the first of the two last quotations, he 
obviously makes his person to suit his argument, and 
then tries to prove his argument by his person; which 
is reasoning in a circle. The fact is, he contradicts 
himself, so often, on this point, that his writings re- 
mind us of a wheat field, with a good deal of rye in it. 
At first, you cannot distinguish whether it is a field of 
wheat or a field of rye; but on a nearer view and a 
closer examination, we discover, that there is more 
wheat than rye, and therefore conclude, that it was in- 
tended for a field of wheat. 

The manner in which Mr. Hume has fallen into 
these contradiction*, is this: he first argues that the in- 
ference from the past to the future, or from effect to 
cause is founded on experience, and adduces such ar- 
guments to prove it, as will make this point strongest 
when taken alone. And in the second place, he con- 
tends, that it is not reasoning a priori, or a reasoning 
process at all; and adduces such arguments, as will 
make his point strongest when taken alone, losing 
sight of the arguments on the other point; and thus 
when the arguments on both points are brought into 
juxta position, as we have brought them, they are found 
in conflict and destny each other, and leave the truth 
in undisturbed security. 

In the recapitulation at the end of the essay on ne- 
cessary connection, between cause and effect, Mr. 
Hume says, "Every idea is copied from some prece- 
ding impression or sentiment; and when we cannot 
find any impresston, we may be certain that there is 



TKE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. H39 

Igk) idea. In all single instances of the operation of 
bodies, or minds, there is nothing that produces any 
impression, nor consequently can suggest any idea of 
power or necessary connection. But when uniform 
instances appear, and the same object is always follow- 
ed by the same event, we then begin to entertain the 
notion of cause and connection. We then feel a new 
sentiment or impression, to wit, a customary connec- 
tion in the thought or imagination, between one object 
and its usual attendant; and this sentiment is the ori- 
ginal of that idea, which we seek for, For as this idea 
arises from a number of similar instances and not from 
any single instance^ it must arise from that circum* 
stance, in which the number of instances differ from 
every individual instance. But this customary con- 
nection, or transition of the imagination, is the only 
circumstance, in which they differ. In every other 
particular they are alike." 

The sentiment of customary connection, is certainly 
not very intelligible; and surely the idea of power is 
not a copy of it, according to Mr. Hume's own theory; 
because according to his theory, the idea differs from 
its impression or sentiment in vivacity only. They 
are, says he, in his essay on the origin of ideas, "dis- 
tinguished by their different degrees of force and vi- 
vacity." Now the impression or sentiment of con- 
nection is different in kind from the idea of power; 
does not come under the same class. The idea of pow- 
er must according to Mr. Hume's own theory, be a 
copy of the impression or sentiment of power, just as 
the idea of heat is a copy of the impression of heat, 
or the idea of a tree is a copy of the impression of a 
15 



170 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

tree, or the idea that any act of the mind is a copf 
of the sentiment of that act. They must be of the' 
same kind s and * 'distinguished by their different de- 
grees of force and vivacity." Mr. Hume means by 
impression, the effect produced on the mind when the 
object is present to the senses, or an emotion or oth- 
er mere mental act, as love or hatred, is actually tak» 
ing place, and by idea, the notion of this impression of 
this object or emotion when recalled by the memory. 
In another place, he says "that the idea of power can 
never be derived from the contemplation of bodies in 
single instances of their operation; because no bodies 
ever discover any power, which can be the original of 
this idea;" and he might have added, that a number 
of instances do not discover any power either, which 
can be the original of this idea. The only difference 
in the effect upon the mind, produced by a single in- 
stance and a number of them, is in degree of certainty. 
For example: — the application of heat to metal would 
give the impression that heat can fuse metal, and a 
number of instances of its application could only add 
certainty to our conviction: but could never suggest 
the idea, that heat can transmute metal into wood, or 
change the original impression into an idea entirely 
different from it. It is evident, then; that the idea of 
power or cause is not derived from the contemplation 
of a number of instances of conjunctions between the 
same facts or events, as Mr. Hnmcj contends. But 
here the question suggests itself, how can this doctrine 
of customary connection, be reconciled with the de- 
claration that the child will get the idea that any can- 
dle will burn, from the fact that one did so? The 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 171 

child must certainly from the one instance, have de- 
rived tlie idea that the candle had the power to burn, 
or which is the same thing, was the cause of the pain, 
and that any other candle would produce the same ef* 
feet. Here, then, let us pause and look back, with a 
feeling of melancholy pity, at the laborious and toil- 
some efforts, of a great genius striving to overturn the 
foundations of all our religious hopes, ending at last 
in such gross contradictions and absurdities as would 
almost disgrace a child! 

It is evident from the foregoing considerations, that 
the idea of power or cause, is not derived originally 
from custom or habit in contemplating many instances 
of the conjunction orsuccession of the same phenome- 
na in the physical world. On the contrary, we main- 
tain that it is not derived from the contemplation of 
the phenomena of the physical world at all — the con- 
junction or succession of the same events, either in 
many or single instances; for it seems very clear that 
we could never derive the idea of power from merely 
contemplating the constant succession of two events or 
phenomena: but that it is derived from mental pheno- 
mena — from the consciousness of power in ourselves, 
to act or produce effects, or even make exertion; 
and that we transfer this idea of power or causation to 
what we call causes in the physical world. Suppose 
we had been from infancy shut up in a dark cave, with 
our body and limbs encrusted in plaster so that we 
could neither see motion in external bodies, nor be ca- 
pable of producing it in ourselves, and therefore could 
have no idea of it whatever: still we would have a com- 
plete idea of power or force derived from conscious- 



172 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY - * 

Bess in ourselves of an endeavor, a nisus, an exertion, 
and a consequent fatigue and exhaustion. If, then, we 
were put into a state of insensibility by an opiate, and 
then removed into the light, where we could see in- 
animate things in motion, such as a stone rolling, we 
would have no idea that power or force was the cause 
of the motion; but if we were now freed from the 
plaster, and discovered that by the endeavor, the nisus, 
the exertion of which we were before conscious, we 
could move our limbs, and by their instrumentality oth- 
er bodies, we would begin to ascribe all the motions 
in the physical world, which were before inexplicable, 
to some hidden force; and thus transfer an idea deriv- 
ed exclusively from consciousness, to phenomena in 
the physical world. This is the history of the chron- 
ological order, in which every mind acquires its knowl- 
edge of causation in the physical world* And this is 
not a single instance, an anomaly, in mental phenom- 
ena; for the poet is continually transferring ideas deri- 
ved from consciousness to material things, in his per- 
sonifications. No one will pretend, that there is, in 
the physical world, any thing but motion, that can 
suggest the idea of force to us* and it is very certain, 
that this can do it, only by association in the manner 
which we have developed; for there is nothing in mo- 
tion that can suggest the idea of force to us a priori.— 
There is no analogy or perceptible relation between 
them; and force produces equilibrium as well as mo- 
tion. It may perhaps be asked, how does a child get 
the idea that a candle has the power to burn, just 
from a single instance ? By association in the man- 
ner we have shown: for power is, if not the very first* 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 173 

certainly among the first things we are conscious of, in 
the acquisition of knowledge; for, on no other hypo- 
thesis, can any rational explication of psychological 
phenomena be given. Mr. Hume thus argues against 
this doctrine: ''The influence of the will over the 
bodily organs, is a fact, which like all natural events, 
can be known only by experience, and can never be 
foreseen from any apparent energy or power in the 
cause which connects it with the effect, and renders 
the one an infallible consequence of the other. The 
motion of our bodily organs follows upon the command 
of the will. Of this we are every moment conscious. 
But the means by which this is effected; the energy 
by which the will performs so extraordinary an opera- 
tion, of this we are so far from being immediately con- 
scious, that it must forever escape our most diligent 
inquiry." We certainly agree with Mr. Hume, that 
"the influence of the will cannot be foreseen from any 
apparent energy or power in the cause; because, this 
would be to look at the operations of the mind with 
the eyes. Here Mr. Hume confounds consciousness 
with perception; and applies language to the former, 
which has been formed to express the operations of the, 
latter, and has no meaning, when applied to the form= 
er. But is he not all the while proving by his own 
argument, that we are conscious of power over our 
bodily organs? And does not this give us the idea of 
power? No, says he, because "we are not conscious 
of the means by which it is effected.'' But, no one 
pretends to such knowledge; for it involves the nature 
of the union between soul and body, between spirit 
and matter; and if this is an objection to one instance 
15* 



I 



174 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

of knowledge derived through consciousness, it is an 
objection to all our knowledge derived thro' that source; 
for in no instance are we conscious of the modus ope- 
randi of mind. We are^conscious of thinking, and of 
controlling the current of our thoughts-, but of the 
means by which the operation is effected, or of the 
manner in which the brain is the organ of the mind, 
we are utterly ignorant: but will any man in his senses, 
pretend that we have no idea of thought, or of mind? — 
Such a notion would not be skepticism but consum- 
mate nonsense. We might just as well deny that we 
have any idea of perception, because we do not know 
the means of its operation; and thus shut up all sources 
of knowledge at once; for we have no more knowledge 
of the manner in which the mind communicates with 
the external world, than we have how it exercises 
power over our bodily organs. Throughout the whole 
of these objections, Mr. Hume seems to think that we 
cannot have an idea of any thing but what we can see 
and handle; that the only real ideas are those derived 
through the senses, for the language he apppiies t® 
consciousness, has no meaning except upon this sup- 
position. 

It will now appear how the doctrine of cause and 
effect is connected with the evidences of natural theo- 
logy. If the idea of power or cause is not derived from 
consciousness of power in ourselves, then the idea of 
the final cause or power is not derived ultimately from 
reflecting upon our own minds, and God cannot there- 
fore, be classed under the same genus or species with 
man,sothatwe can reason from the one to the other; and 
then all the evidences of natural theology jnust re&t 



THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 175 

ultimately -upon the doctrine of customary conjunction. 
Upon this foundation the evidences of natural theology 
must fail; because we know of but one instance of 
conjunction between such a cause and effect, — the 
present creation; and the doctrine of customary ^con- 
junction, is that no one instance can suggest the idea 
of power, but that it requires many instances to do it. 
Mr. Hume, throughout his argument on a particular 
providence and a future state, covertly assumes this 
position, though he does not push it out to its ultimate 
conclusions; for it would go the full length of denying 
the existence of any God at all, which he seems to 
have avoided merely for the purpose of thereby better 
sustaining the skeptic character of never asserting any 
thing positively; for it is evident from his writings, 
that he foresaw this conclusion as resulting from his 
principles o£ evidence in regard to cause and effect. — 
His doctrine is, that cause and effect are nothiug more 
than the constant conjunction or succession of two 
f icts or phenomena; and that the antecedent fact does 
not produce or exercise any power over the sequent 
fact, and that in reality, there is no causation in such 
cases, but that it is the mere association of ideas aris- 
ing from the constant conjunction of the facts that leads 
us to imagine that there is an operating principle or 
power in the antecedent fact. We see by this mere 
statement, that if God be like a physical cause, he 
must according to Mr. Hume's doctrine be merely im- 
aginary, even if there were as many instances of con- 
junction between such a cause and its effect,as between 
any other cause and effect. This doctrine then leads 
to atheism; and does not stop short at a God of limited 



t 



176 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

powers, as Mr. Hume has done In his essay on a 
Particular Providence and a Future State. But will 
it' make any material change in the theological doc- 
trine, if we consider the cause or antecedent fact as 
containing an operative principle which produces the 
effect or sequent fact?. If we liken God tc a blind a- 
gency in matter, such as this doctrine of cause and ef- 
fect teaches, we cannot upon any principle of sound 
induction, consider him any thing else than a mere vis 
forma tiva, operative through the universe, which is 
the doctrine of pantheism. "God," says Prof. Miche. 
let, a pantheist of Germany, "is the eternal movement 
of the universal principle constantly manifesting itself 
in individual existences, and which has no true object 
tive existence, but in these individuals which pass a- 
wav again into the infinite." To this notion of Go[',must 
the doctrine, that a physical cause contains an operas 
tive principle, lead, if we make causes the foundation 
of our inferences in regard to God. We see*, then, 
that upon neither doctrine of cause and effect, can God 
be likened to a physical cause; for the first leads to 
atheism, and the other to pantheism, which is in fact 
atheism too. But if we lay causation in conscious- 
ness, the evidences of natural theology are impregna- 
ble; because then, instead of being driven to the ne- 
cessity of confounding God with a mere physical cause, 
(bringing them under the same class) and reasoning 
from one to the other, we bring God under the same 
class (that of intelligent agents) with man, and reason 
from an intelligent agent to an intelligent agent. Be* 
cause in this view of causation, we resolve every me- 
chanical cause ultimately into the direct agencv of an 



'THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 177 

intelligent being; for the only instance of direct cau- 
sation of which we have any knowledge, is that of the 
exercise of force by ourselves and by other men, over 
matter. And this would perhaps be accounting for 
every instance of causation in the universe-, for so very 
large a portion of the phenomena of the universe have 
already been traced up to the exertion of mechanic;, 1 
force, as to lead philosophers to believe, that mechani- 
cal force is the only cause capable of acting on material 
beings, and that, of course, ail other causes, when bet- 
ter understood, will be ascertained to be nothing more 
than the exercise of mechanical force. With this 
view then, ot causation, and basing the evidences of 
natural theology on the contrivances, adaptations of 
means to ends, the order and harmony of the universe, 
we have throughout the whole inquiry, — never losing 
sight of it for a moment — the idea that God is a per- 
sonal intelligent being, distinct from his creatures, both 
animate and inanimate, in his essence, and acts, and 
consciousness; and not a mere cause, of which the uni- 
verse is the phenomena. On this foundation, natural 
theology teaches the notion of such a God as we can 
address as "Our father who art in heaven." 

The argument of Mr. Hume, which we have been 
considering, is certainly subtle and ingenious in the ex- 
treme, but he views things too much through the little 
pin-hole of his skeptical creed, to let in u; on his mind, 
light from all parts of hissubject; and in presenting his 
partial views toothers, he gives them such bold relief" 
by the bright coloring of his admirable rhetoric, as to cast 
the other parts of his subjects, completely into the 
shade. In his philosophical writings, therefore, we 



i l 



J 78 THE BACONIAN PHILOSOPHY. 

never see a complete picture; yet what we do see, 
exhibits the touches of a master; for however imper- 
fect the picture may be as a likeness, it has nothing of 
the daubing of the pretender. 

If what we have gleaned, from this field of evidence 
which has been harvested home by the master minds 
of the past and present century, shall contribute any 
thing; to the truths of natural theology, we will rejoice; 
for it were better that the sun were smitten from the 
firmament, and all creation covered in darkness, so 
that we could not read one word in the great book of 
nature, than that a false and impious philosophy should 
tear out the sacred chapter of final causes. If we did 
not know that some Christian philosophers excluded 
natural theology from amongst the sciences, we would 
have supposed such doctrine to be the mere offal of 
philosophy scraped up from around the style of some 
blasphemous infidel. What! God write a book in de- 
fence of atheism. It must be so 9 if nature tells nothing 
of him. Must creation cease to declare the glory of 
him who spread out the heavens, and will roll them up 
as a scroll? The desolate soul of the misanthrope athe- 
ist, may answer "yes;" but Newton has given the re- 
sponse of the true philosopher, 

THE END, 



17 82 




Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: August 2004 

PreservationTechnologies 

^A A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION I 






1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
f724l779-?111 












■r v^ 






V 



^ 
•^ 










